Aegon VI, the Alternate Story
by Aegon Targaryen
Summary: Robert's Rebellion was thwarted and the Targaryens remain on the Iron Throne. Yet in this alternate world where the game is played, you still must win or you still will die. The story of Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of his Name, son of the Bard King Rhaegar. A tale of a young king who must find the dragon within himself, unless he falls in the fight against those who lust for the throne.
1. Prologue - The Alternate History

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

*******This is merely the introduction to understand this fanfic and is in no way a part of the actual story script. Please continue reading the first chapter if this strikes your fancy! Thank you!

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**Prologue**

In the year 299 when the turn of the century draws near and old tales begin to circulate once more, a time would soon come when Westeros would forever be changed, when winter bared its icy fangs. Eighteen years ago the Stag raised itself against the Dragon in open rebellion, plunging Westeros into civil war. This bloody revolt began over one woman, the Lady Lyanna of House Stark, which left thousands upon thousands dead within a year. The was decided during the Battle of the Trident where the Strong Stag tried to end it all when he challenged Rhaegar Targaryen. The Crown Prince slew the treacherous Robert Baratheon, but at a grave cost to himself. The civil war continued even with one banner torn down, but soon enough the others lowered and submitted to the might of the Dragon. Yet, the cause of the war laid dead in the Tower of Joy in the arms of her brother.

Rhaegar, First of his Name of House Targaryen was crowned King of Westeros as his father laid murdered with a Lannister blade in his back. The Mad King was dead, and justice was demanded of those who had wronged the Targaryens. The traitors were brought forth to bend the knee to Rhaegar, the Bard King, and plead their case to him. Lord Paramount Robert Baratheon was announced a traitor, his sentence passed by Rhaegar's sword while his family was pardoned by the king's good nature. Stannis Baratheon was named Paramount of the Stormlands, much to the youngest stag's envy. Lord Eddard Stark was forgiven as the Bard King could not find it in his heart to condemn a man who raised the sword in defense of his own family. He could only blame his father who had murdered Lord Stark's father and brother in the Great Hall of the Red Keep. And for the men who would join so honorably to right such wrongs, King Rhaegar pardoned both Lord Hoster Tully and Lord Jon Arryn.

For his bravery in saving the Targaryen dynasty, Tywin Lannister was named Hand of the King. Though his elder son had slain Aerys, it was recognized that Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard had only done so when the Mad King had ordered the city burned to the ground with wildfire. Though the pardon was reluctant, it was more surprising when the Bard King deemed Ser Jaime fit to remain as a member of the Seven White Swords, having lost much of his Kingsguard to the civil war already. The king gave his pardons and proclaimed them to be indisputable, and life went on. For most.

Lord Stark had been made bitter by death. The loss of his father, brother, a man who was to become his brother, and his beloved sister whom he had buried in the crypts underneath his homestead of Winterfell. The Lannisters on the other hand were overjoyed with having secured their dominance in court once more. At the side of the Iron Throne, the influence of Tywin Lannister was limitless and only made stronger as he brokered and alliance with House Baratheon. Lady Cersei Lannister was married to Stannis Baratheon, securing two lands in the Lion's pockets. Not even Tywin Lannister had expected that Robert's Rebellion would have brought his family such good fortunes.

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King Rhaegar was not often seen at court, his bidding done through the Lord Hand. For the Bard King could only sing soft, sad songs now for the loss of his beloved queen of beauty. As he often laid in bed with an infected chest wound, long since bestowed on him by Robert's hammer. He was left sickly and fatigued, coughing up large amounts of mucus and blood for days at a time. And each time he fell ill, it worsened much to the worry of Queen Elia Martell who spent every moment possible with her husband. Soon enough though after four years on the throne, King Rhaegar I died in his bed from a terrible fever with the last words wheezing painfully from his lips: "Lyanna". And in his place, a child heir ascended to the Iron Throne at the age of five.

Aegon Targaryen was to be the Sixth of his Name when he came of age and was crowned before the gods and men of Westeros. For time until then, Queen Elia was named Regent to rule in his stead and count the years until her son would become a man and wear the crown for himself. That time was fast approaching, when the king must be given the blessing of the High Septon, truly become the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and marry.

By decree of the late Bard King, his son and daughter were not to marry but instead be betrothed to a noble worthy of the Dragon. Yet, with the notion of lords being able to marry their daughters to the king, there were some with the idea of becoming the king instead.

You win, or you die. Aegon had little clue of the Dragon he would soon become.

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**Summary**:

Year is 299AL, a year after the canon beginning. In this AU, the Targaryens of course still rule.

Robert Baratheon was killed by Rhaegar Targaryen.

Tywin Lannister is Hand of the King instead of Jon Arryn, who is alive.

Cersei Lannister is married to Stannis Baratheon who is Lord Paramount of the Stormlands.

Jaime and Cersei still have their relationship even at a distance, and their children are the same.

Vierys and Daenerys are alive and in King's Landing.

Rhaenys Targaryen, age 19, sister of Aegon is alive.

Aegon Targaryen, age 15, son of Rhaegar Targaryen is alive.

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**Author's Note**: So begins a new reign, hopefully interesting enough to go to Chapter One right now!... Go on, click it. I don't mind. No really, you can, it's fine. Cersei won't bite.

**Please Note**: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And **PLEASE, do not review with spoilers**, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	2. Chapter 1 - Enter the Wolf

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

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**Chapter 1: Enter the Wolf**

"Your Grace! Oh Seven help me... Your Grace! Please, stop running!" Ser Barristan called, trying to keep up with the young king as they raced down a corridor through the Red Keep, his armor making him leagues more sluggish than Aegon.

The spirited youth paid little heed to his knight, running from the corridor to outside on the wide ramparts where guards who tried to stand at attention, found their backs against the wall to let the king race by. This was hardly unusual for King's Landing, especially not since Aegon was permitted to roam as he pleased, for the most part. After his fourth escape from the Red Keep, the Queen-Regent doubled the guard to be sure the sovereign would at least remain within the protection of the castle walls, and not out in the streets of the city pretending to be a beggar who wore very fine clothes. He had only done that once and his dear mother never let him forget it.

"Gods preserve my heart." Barristan panted as he walked out onto the ramparts. "Mother give me mercy, just for one day let him behave."

Aegon had wanted to watch the last of the noble guests arrive in King's Landing, and news had just reached him that they were now approaching the city. The king had completely ignored his Kingsguard and left his studies almost instantly, he could have been with the small council and done the same. Perhaps only if he were with the master-at-arms training, he might have ignored the message and waited until later to see his guests. He was no good with a blade but he loved to learn, always imagining that he was a knightly king like his father. The love he had for his father kept him dedicated to his swordplay lessons, he was not easily torn away. Yet there were no such lessons today and the king was on the run.

There was little chance in stopping Aegon, not when something excited him. Being young, a boy of fifteen years who was to be a man, he still acted like a child many would say. In private, of course. Now no longer on the ramparts he was once more inside, though he was not sprinting at full speed since he had already eluded his watchers. He hurried through one of the great archways within the keep, having expected only to pass by stationed guards, he found himself still. Before him, heading in the opposite direction was Jamie Lannister. The blond man stopped near the boy as he gave the king a grin, bowing to him. As one of his Kingsguard, Jamie was entitled to being close to Aegon and could even force him to return to his lessons. The Targaryen knew this lion better than that though, Jamie could never be bothered much with him.

"You are in a terrible hurry, your Grace. Is the keep on fire?" The knight was much taller than Aegon, even if he was almost a man himself. The boy was still short and not as strong as he'd like, not even close. Perhaps that was the one admiration or perhaps envy he had for Ser Jamie, the fact that he was dashing, tall and strong.

He could only shrug at Jaime, which made the Kingslayer laugh and ruffle the boy's hairm making Aegon sneer. He hated Jaime Lannister, not because he murdered his grandfather or made tame jokes of the young king to his face, but because of how smug and proud he was. All Lannisters were like that, every last one. The worst was Jamie's sister, he hated her most of all for all the sourly things she said to him in the form of praise. When he was truly crowned king, he would not be made a mockery by the lions anymore.

"Best run along, your Grace. I can hear Ser Barristan wheezing from here." Jaime stepped aside and bowed to Aegon as he walked by. The Targaryen king looked back, the Lannister wearing his grin and making him feel like an idiot. He had enough of him for one day and sprinted off once more, just in case he wasn't lying about Ser Barristan catching up. The old knight was always chasing after the king, his loyalty would certainly kill him one day.

Aegon didn't have far to run before he came to the northern reach of the keep, stepping outside to look to the horizon. The Stark company had several wagons, most covered by tarps but one was larger than the rest and made almost like a wheelhouse, though much less fanciful. Direwolf banners fluttered among the many horsemen, one of them surely would be Lord Stark who was last among the great lords to arrive for his Nameday and coronation. He did not like the Starks, they were too cold and too distant for his liking. Aegon did wonder though what they would bring him, hopefully not something barbaric like Tywin Lannister had said they would.

The Tyrells brought him a dozen dozen dozen flowers for the celebration before his Nameday and an entire suit of ornate armor, said to have been designed by the Knight of Flowers himself for all Aegon could care. The Baratheons had given him three finely crafted swords, two fine hunting bows, and a golden war-hammer that surely Cersei Baratheon's father paid for. So what would the Starks bring? He had flowers, armor and weapons so would they bring him a mount? He guessed a horse but perhaps one of their fabled direwolves instead, though he wasn't fond of the idea and quickly put it out of mind.

He watched the gates open for the Starks, wondering how far they had come and how long it took them. Aegon loved the times he would sneak from the Red Keep by one of the passages and walk among the common people without a care. Peasants only cared about food, lords had to only care about gold, as king, he had to care about everything. The young king so loved the Red Keep, it was his home after all and he had known nothing else in the world for he never took a step outside King's Landing. Not even to Dragonstone, it was seemingly too dangerous for Rhaegar's heir to be allowed far from the Iron Throne when the dust of the rebellion was still settling. Many lords cried for Rhaegar and Aegon's heads, demanding a true sovereign would reign over them. Those voices had been quiet for years, yet still there were some who would do the Targaryens harm either for long-dead grudges or personal gain. It mattered not.

Aegon sighed as he pushed himself off from the red stone and turned to go inside where he needed to get ready to receive the Starks as he had the Baratheons and Tyrells. As he made way to his chambers, Ser Barristan finally caught up with him along with two of the other kingsguards, thankfully not Jaime. Once ready, the king took a look at himself one last time before he would have to go sit on the Iron Throne. The vest he wore was black, adorned with tiny, smooth onyx and rubies that shaped the flaming three-headed dragon crest on his back. His tunic underneath was a bright red, like fresh blood which matched the color of the rubies and his trousers that were trimmed with gold thread. Even his boots had gold and rubies on them against the tan leather, so surely he looked like a king, certainly with his gold circlet on his head. Yet he didn't feel like a king.

As he was escorted from his chambers toward the Great Hall, Aegon felt his worry worsen. His grandfather was a king, a bad one but at least he had the courage to command, Aegon could never raise his voice. His father had been a king, loved far and wide, his smile won the affection of the people and his sword had struck down Targaryen enemies. Aegon didn't much like to smile and he was loved for being the son of the Bard King. A lord who was educated, wise, strong, brave, good with a sword as well as a harp, that was his father. Aegon was only Aegon, taught to ride horseback and wield a sword. He was good, or at the very least good enough, but he did not excel at anything and he was frustrated by it. It was no wonder he did not feel like a king.

Now though he had to appear like he felt like a king, as he took his place on the Iron Throne. Never once could he get used to sitting on the hunk of swords, afraid of being cut after hearing how the Mad King had several slits in his clothes and flesh from the throne. A king should never sit comfortably, so Aegon the Conqueror had famously said, this Aegon would disagree. The skulls of dead dragons stared at him, watching and judging him as he sat as their master. This was a time he wished to sit in some comfort, as the doors of the throne room opened and in came Eddard Stark with his party. Though he was king, Aegon felt it was rude that he could not stand to greet his guests. Mother said that was a sign of weakness, to level oneself with even a Lord Paramount. And so he sat, quietly as Lord Stark approached and knelt down onto one knee.

"Your Grace. It honors me to come to King's Landing at your call, may it please you also that I brought my family including my two daughters." Ned spoke solemnly but it seemed strained. Aegon as well felt strained, he had not made any call or command for the Starks to come. That had been his mother, and reluctantly also Tywin who didn't want the Starks playing the game.

"You are most welcomed here, Lord Stark. I am most happy to see you and your family. I trust the trip was well for you and your daughters? Please, stand before your king. Let me look upon my Warden of the North." Aegon was rather good at saying this by now since he had already spoken these words twice before. When Ned did stand, the king felt himself being very afraid. The Stark's eyes were cold and icy, almost heartless as they looked up at Aegon with little feeling in them. What feeling there was, made Aegon feel more uncomfortable than the Iron Throne did.

"The trip was long but well, your Grace. My daughters are most anxious to be presented to you." Lord Stark glanced back and gestured his hand. Two girls moved beside him, curtsying before Aegon. At least one of them was, the other he wasn't sure what she was doing whether it was curtsying or trying to act like a fish out of water. "These are my daughters, Sansa and Arya, your Grace."

"It is an honor my King." The elder one spoke as she stood up straight, young and pretty, this one was Sansa. The other stood up as well, but did not look up at him or say anything as her sister had, shy and withdrawn with no sense of a lady- this one was Arya.

"It warms my heart to welcome you both. I hope you will be happy in King's Landing, my dear Ladies of the North."

"You are too kind my King." Sansa flushed as she spoke, Arya rolled her eyes at her sister. Aegon was not impressed by this imp of a girl from the North. And by the way she was looking around casually, she couldn't much care how impressed he was with her. Sansa though, her eyes were locked with Aegon's each time they met. Her heart danced in her chest and the girl's smile wanted to burst with giggles, but she restrained herself. Before Aegon could deliver a rehearsed compliment about her beauty, he was cut off.

"If it is no trouble, your Grace." Ned Stark spoke suddenly. Aegon was taken aback, not sure what to expect as none of the other lords had broken script. "My children and wife, as well admittedly myself are weary from our long journey. I would beg you permit us to retire."

Aegon must have looked like an idiot, he certainly felt like one. What was he to say, how should he say it? Was a simple acknowledgment enough or would that cause insult? The Stark must have seen, or like a wolf smelt the uneasiness of the king as he looked over to the Queen-Regent who sat not far from her son. She looked weak, ill even as she sat there yet she smiled at Ned Stark and nodded to him.

"We understand that you have had a tiring journey, my lord. You came as the king commanded and we hope to see you well rested for the feast tomorrow." Queen Elia spoke quietly, perhaps not heard beyond the ears of the Starks. Ned nodded and bowed before them before he stepped back with his girls. The court was dismissed and Queen Elia came over and had the king escort her from the throne room, else he likely would not have moved on his own.

Aegon truly felt foolish, that embarrassment soon turned to anger as he realized that he had not been presented with his Nameday gift. No matter, he thought. He would let the days roll on and in a month's time remind the Stark of this insult.

Fire and Blood. The wolf would learn to cower before the dragon, learn not to offend and learn not to speak out of place. The next time Ned Stark would beg, it would be for life.

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**_Author's Note_**: Forgive Aegon for being a little flip-flop in personality, it's a Targaryen thing to be stingy. Remember to please review, or Cersei will find you! Her little birds are everywhere, pooping on your house.

**_Please Note_**: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	3. Chapter 2 - The Lion's Feast

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

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**Chapter 2: The Lion's Feast**

The day had been long, too long for Aegon. He had spent the night and most of the day in his chambers, locked away from the world. They laughed at him, he was sure of it. The wolves, the lions, the stags, all of them. Every animal thinking they bested the dragon, their king. Aegon wanted to feel angry, to feel the wrath of dragon's fire burning in him, but he just couldn't. For some reason his fierceness faded as his heart ached the more he thought of things the court could be whispering about him.

And it was nearing time to go to the banquet that the Lord Hand Tywin had prepared in honor of all the Lord Paramounts. All seven had arrived with their families with gifts for his Nameday, though only three were interested in presenting brides to him. Well all six, the only Paramount absent would be Lord Tully, who was ill and had sent his son Lord Edmure in his place. The old lord was bedridden for four years now, and his family worried he did not have long. Aegon now ached for them as the thought crossed his mind, the Tullys were good people and he knew the pain of losing a father, even if he had grown into an old age. His own father never had such a blessing, dead from a wound that caused great fever and sapped the life from him. The king could still hear his mother wailing, she had never cried so hard, at least to his knowledge. There were whispers that even though Rhaegar had forsaken her for another, she still loved him deeply despite the political strings behind their marriage.

Aegon tried, he truly did try to cheer up. This was to be the celebration before his Nameday after all, with just over a week before he would come of age. He had every reason to be happy, very happy in fact. The young king had every wealth, servants at his command, knights to protect him, fools to entertain him. And soon he would have the choice of bride, something most did not have. Were it the time of the Mad King, he would marry his sister Rhaenys who was only two years his elder, very beautiful and very clever.

While he did love his sister so, very deeply indeed, he had absolutely no desire to bed with her. His kingly father thought much the same, having married a Dornish lady and had loved a Northern one. So it was decided long ago that Aegon would be matched with someone outside the Targaryen dynasty, the Mad King probably rolling around in his grave in a fit of laughter from it.

Now though he was a king, and kings did as they pleased. And he would marry the woman he would fall in love with. Aegon gave the tiniest of smiles, perhaps a bit forced but he was happy. There would be a grand banquet soon to enjoy, and he had received so many more gifts from the other Great Houses who had not come to play the game of brides.

Aegon had been surprised by the massive bundle presented to him by the Lord of the Vale, he couldn't have guessed what it was nor could his council. Though some were disappointed at what it really was, the king was not. Lord Arryn had given him a hundred books, and he was excited to read them just by glancing at the titles. Ice and Snow: Tales of the Wall, Maiden of the Narrow Sea, Valyrian Mountain Myths, the list went on through novels and books of history, though one did not sit well with him: the Histories of Brandon the Builder. Even the Vale was infected by these Starks, it made Aegon frown, but he tried to push away the negative thoughts. He began to recall the other gifts to force the Starks into the dark corner of his mind.

The Tullys had gifted him with a troupe that sung sweet songs and did such amazing acrobats that Aegon nearly fell out of his seat each time he watched them. While the Dorne had sent him a new ship, the Gallant Dragon which seemed to dwarf most vessels in the port of King's Landing. The thought of having a way to escape was tempting, and he loved his gift perhaps too much even if he had not yet stepped foot on it. The Greyjoys surely would have gifted him a ship as well, but instead they had brought an ancient iron-chained belt said to have been owned by King Harren the Black, before the Dragon Conquest. And the Lannisters, their gift was richest of all but had little thought behind it. Gold, jewels and ornaments, all of it in more weight that the suit of armor from the Tyrells. Shapes of dragon and flame, swords and sunbursts in form of pins, chains, wrist-cuffs, crowns and more. Aegon wasn't fond of this gift, but compared to the Starks, at least the lions had given him something.

A loud pounding at his door startled the king and he jumped up from where he had been sitting, setting aside one of the books Jon Arryn had given him as he called for the noisy character to enter. To little surprise considering the force of the knock, it was Viserys.

"Uncle. What can I do for you?"

"Ah little nephew. The feast is soon and they need your royal ass sitting up there with the Paramounts." Viserys said coldly although he smiled, it was a cruel one. He had not even bothered to bow before Aegon since they were not in court, and the king had become accustomed to the strange treatment his uncle gave him. It was actually interesting that he had waited for Aegon to call him to enter, though with the Kingsguard just outside his door, perhaps he had no choice.

"Tell them I'm coming. I need to wait for my mother so I might accompany her."

"Oh. They didn't tell you." Viserys' smile turned to a grin, crueler than before as Aegon glanced back at him. "She broke with a fever only an hour ago, likely it'll last the night so she will not be attending."

"I see. Nothing can be done then."

Aegon was used to his mother falling ill from time to time, though it seemed to happen more as the summer became so unbearably hot. He was now afraid, as he had hoped his mother would sit with him at the feast and say the words he didn't know. The look in his nephew's eye was a delight for Viserys, it was no secret the hatred he harbored for the boy even if he did nothing against the king. Had he not been born, it would have been Viserys who'd be king right now. And at times, Aegon was tempted to let him have it.

"Then I'll be there shortly." Aegon finally said though his voice got quieter as Viserys approached him until he was right in front of the king who had backed away some. He pushed his nephew down onto the bed and got on top of him, holding down his arms.

"Good. They're all anxious to see which girl you're going to fuck some day soon. Won't that be fun little nephew? Maybe then you'll grow a few inches and be as tall as a lady. Maybe then you'll stop being every stable boy's wet dream." His grin hadn't faded, even as Aegon looked away. Less than a moment later Viserys was off him and heading towards the door, slamming it behind him. It had felt like an eternity under that man, too scared to move and even more frightened to utter a word. The king felt the tears roll down his cheeks as he sat up, not bothering to wipe his eyes right away.

Slowly, he mustered the strength and perhaps courage to stand and get ready, changing his attire from black and red in favor of white and gold. Perhaps if he glittered and looked bright during the feast, it might appear like he were full of glee. Taking a last look in the mirror, he slipped on a silver circlet, trimmed with pearls. He did look like a girl, he thought to himself as he stared. Aegon must've been cursed as he had the beauty of his father and mother both to make him look so weak and disgusting. Clenching his fist, he wanted to break the mirror. He swallowed his rage, shoved thoughts of Viserys out of his mind and marched out of his chambers, accompanied by his knights.

The banquet was a great marvel to behold, the feasting hall was lined with long tables in several rows that led up to where Lord Tully and all the Lord Paramounts and their wives were sitting with two empty chairs for the king and queen-regent. Below them were the families of the Paramounts, a long table that ran parallel to the king's table, all filled up with the children. Tyrell flowers lined the noble tables, and were woven into the cloth of the king's table, suitably announcing the importance of having all the factions sitting side by side with their liege lord. Every hearth was burning bright, with every corner filled with music from the great troupe that Hoster Tully had given the king who were performing acts across the room and causing several to gasp or laugh with their talents. Roasted birds and hogs, cheesed snails, soft breads, and caramelized vegetables were on every table with wine poured freely for everyone, including the bastard Jon Snow who had found himself at the other end of the great hall.

Catelyn Stark would not have him sitting with or even near her husband's trueborns. And he had been fine with it as he was free to drink and enjoy himself as he pleased. He did feel unlucky though, being born out of the bunch as the gods had willed it. Snow received some stares though as he fed his direwolf, Ghost underneath the table with scraps from above. It seemed as though all the Stark children had been given leave to bring their pets, even Rickon Stark's Shaggydog was there though it was more happy laying in a corner than being fed under the table though Rickon called him over. Joffrey Baratheon was not pleased to be sitting beside Robb Stark, inching away every so often as he saw the pair of wolf eyes glancing up at him from under the table, even if the Stark assured him he was friendly enough. There was such a crowd that even the nobles had to rub elbows it seemed, as did their high-born children. Jon Snow suddenly did not feel so unlucky after all.

The music and chatter became silence as the main door opened and in came the Kingsguard. Each standing to the side to make way for Aegon, a herald announcing him in full title and name. All stood quickly beside their benches and faced the back of the room where the king was entering, bowing low as he walked by. The Kingsguard followed, standing at their posts behind and around the king's table, Jamie Lannister as far from Aegon as he could order it. Taking his seat, unhappily beside Ned Stark and his wife, he signaled for all to sit and continue, though he said not a word. The evening was long and Aegon ate little, he found he had no appetite sitting next to the Northern Lord, more so as his Tully wife spoke with her king and nervously tried to jest at the sheer numbers that had filled the hall to honor the king and his company. Aegon drank wine hastily, not usually having permission from his mother to have any at all, the king found himself pleasantly dulled and in a small daze.

Around him the music was ongoing as was the troupe who played and danced, throwing knifes and each other, juggling fruit of all sizes to the amazement of all, and causing the room to bleed with enjoyment. Only the king seemed to be in an odd mood neither happy nor foul, at least not anymore. He had found a spot with his wine, happily dimmed to the events about the feasting hall. Lord and Lady Stark had given up trying to converse with the king, Catelyn Stark found it incredibly insulting while Ned Stark simply thought the boy to be shy and perhaps overwhelmed.

"Ned, dearest." Catelyn hissed. "This boy might be king, but I do not like sitting up here for him to ignore us."

"My dear, let him warm up to us. We've never truly met the king like this after all, I thought I was supposed to be the cold Stark."

Ned's chuckle made Catelyn all the more put off, though her annoyance soon melted away like southern snow. Perhaps she too was shy, being up in front of these people, at least ten fold more than she was used to at Winterfell. And there she knew them by name and face, crest and motto. Here there was nothing but strangers and eyes everywhere. Oh how she wished she had been seated next to her sister or brother, but Lysa Tully was unlucky enough to be between the Lannisters and Baratheons with her husband. And her brother was at the end of the table after the Lord of Dorne and the Lord of the Reach, with the Rivers at the end away from his Stark sister. Though for the king, he would have understood perhaps, being between the Lion and the Wolf. He never felt safer, except anywhere else. Though perhaps he cared a bit less now with the glasses of wine he had drunk.

Aegon's alcohol trance was broken was a thud beside him, quickly looking over to see a girl sitting where his mother was supposed to be. Aegon stared for a moment, thinking of who it could be. He was sure he had seen her before, surely he had but her name eluded him.

"Father! Sansa keeps pinching me and telling me to sit up better when I already am! I don't want to sit next to her anymore!" The girl complained, and as Aegon turned to look at Ned Stark, it was hard to not to laugh. The look, the pure shock that was on Lord Stark's face made the whole feast worthwhile as he looked at the girl, Aegon realizing it was Arya, Stark's daughter who was only a little younger than Aegon, being of eleven years.

"Your Grace, a thousand pardons. Arya, stop leaning over the king and go back to your seat, else go to your chamber. I will speak with you and Sansa on the morrow about this." He said so sternly, Aegon thought the Stark's teeth would crack. A northern trait no doubt.

"Father- but I..." Arya suddenly looked dumbfoundly at Aegon and lowered her head. "Sorry. Your Grace."

"No need. If you prefer, sit here if you wish to be a ways from your pestering sister." Aegon could hardly believe words came from his lips, let alone those words. He was sure Lord and Lady Stark were equally shocked, as was Twyin Lannister who sat on the other side, now next to a Stark girl.

"Really? Really do you mean it?" She asked, full of glee to be away from her sister. "Can I father?"

"If.. his Grace permits it, you should do yourself honor and accept." Ned managed to get out, trying to figure out if he was drunk or heard wrong.

"Then I will!" Arya sat firmly in the seat, triumphant. Sansa barely noticed she was missing as the feast continued on, the music and show causing Arya to often applaud, now that she was free from the stinging pinches of her proud sister. The platters of food kept coming, changing one for another to keep the taste varied. Soon enough though dessert came, small cakes and biscuits of lemon and pumpkin. Aegon must have had six pumpkin cookies before he realized he was getting sick off them, Arya watched the whole time as she ate twice as many as the king did. Finally, curiosity got the better of her.

"Why do they call you Aegon the Little?" She whispered half-innocently, though regretted it immediately as she saw the hurt on Aegon's face. "Sorry.. I didn't mean-"

"It's because I'm short. And almost a man now. You don't see the Imp getting the respect of his peers, no one likes a short king either." Aegon replied as he sipped some wine, not as phased by it as he looked. After all, when in the city in disguise, a true costume, not dressed in nice garments and pretending to be a silly beggar, he heard the people speak. Aegon the Little, the man who was a boy who was a king, the laughter stun him hard and the mockery haunted him. Not sure how to respond, Arya could only nod as she ate another small cookie, still feeling famished.

"You don't look short." Arya commented after a long, long moment of silence.

"I suppose no one appears short to you." He hadn't meant it as insulting, though he was surprised as the girl looked like she wanted to bump his nose in.

"Fine then. You're short. I'm shorter. Glad we settled that." She snapped and turned away from him, and it seemed that Ned was not the only one troubled by Arya's behavior. Tywin Lannister stood up, glancing down at the girl, then to Aegon.

"Your Grace, if I may suggest that you allow other maidens to sit with you. It may look unfavorable if you permit the Stark... lady to be your only guest." The Lord of the Hand said down to the king, who glanced away, and eventually nodded slowly.

"I'm... sorry, your Grace." Arya spoke softly, looking to her father who seemed a bit crossed. "Thank you for your um... invitation."

Not too happy at the thought of leaving to return to her sister's side where the pinching would resume, Arya soon was thankful to sneak down the feasting hall to sit with Jon Snow. Myrcella Baratheon took her place almost instantly, must more nobler in her disposition and kinder to Aegon. Yet the king found he liked her less, her smile seemed nice enough but her words were practiced. The feast still continued long into the night with dancing and song, Aegon refusing Lady Myrcella's advances to dance with him. She would speak nice things to him, compliment his clothes and hair, admire him and ask him lots of questions about King's Landing. No other maidens got turn with the king that night, for the Lion left his niece at Aegon's side at all times.

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**_Author's Note_**: I know I just published, dishing out the prologue and chapter one, and now chapter two in quick succession, buuut not sure if I can keep that up for every single chapter. I'll do my best to post every few days or every week at least. As always, please review or Cersei will come get you and do terrible, ungodly things to you... like speak.

**_Review Response_**: To Guest, thank you for the comment! Glad to have a first review, I greatly appreciate it. I'm not quite sure what you're referring to by world building since these are George Martin's scenes, but thank you nonetheless! :)

**_Review Response_ #2**: Chronos, he's 15, I suppose I didn't make that very clear... He's a child growing into a man, or supposed to be. I'll add it to the prologue and first chapter. Thanks for pointing it out! Have a cookie!

**_Please Note_**: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	4. Chapter 3 - Knight of the Silver Prince

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

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**Chapter 3: Knight of the Silver Prince**

The gates opened and in marched the party led by one of the Kingsguard, Ser Jon Connington. He was a hard man, truly so after fighting for his liege only to be exiled over a matter of honor. During Robert's Rebellion, he refused to sack the village where the treacherous Stag hunkered as it would leave too many innocents dead, slain in cold blood to end the war. For this, King Aerys revoked all his titles and lands, sending him to the Free Cities. A much lighter punishment than most received. Yet here he was, back in Westeros fourteen years now thanks to the good king Rhaegar who pardoned him. While he was pleased, Ser Jon Connington was hardly surprised by the kindness of his Silver Prince.

Like many who were loyal to the Targaryen Bard King, it gave them grief to watch him suffer especially during his last moments when the fever made his wound fester and puss. Rhaegar screamed for hours, even the milk of the poppy did little at first until finally it dulled his pain, and his mind. The Queen and a handful of the Kingsguard were present during the king's dying breath, Ser Jon was not. Out of all those who swore loyalty to the crown, he swore his heart and it broke that day. Thinking back on the turn of events, he was pleased with how Aegon, Sixth of his Name was turning out to be like his father. Of course the lad was small for his age, even Ser Jon dare not refute that, but Aegon was his king and he would be ever dedicated to him. He would serve the son just as he had served the father for the rest of his days.

Once again he was Lord of Griffin's Roost, his double red and white griffin banner flying over his homestead. Ironic now how he once had fiery hair, now becoming white as snow as the years rolled by and experience took a toll on his appearance. He was a gruff-looking man, large and built like a great mountain, fierce with the great sword on his back. His white armor was shining but the grim, serious expression on his face destroyed his gallant portrait. To some, Ser Jon looked more a brute than a knight while to others he was a tower of strength that symbolized the power of the king. An inspiration of both awe and fear, as Aegon the Conqueror would have had it.

Through the streets Ser Jon and his knightly company passed, the people bowing their heads as some whispered lowly amongst each other. The king was not loved by the people, and who could blame them? The Lion sat near the Dragon and spoke lies in his ear, pulled the strings and made the king do his bidding. There was little use in revealing this to his lord, Ser Jon knew that Rhaegar's last will to have Elia as Queen-Regent barred much of his sovereign authority. Unless he wanted to be as the Mad King and reign as a dictator. Worse yet, no one dared to disturb the queen with notions of conspiracy and plot, the poor woman would likely and literally die of the shock.

Nearing the approach to the Red Keep, the great towers and walls now loomed over them. An unwelcoming, frightfully familiar shadow cast across the knights, and Ser Jon knew what was to come. This was the arena of political battle and deceitful intrigue, the prize being control over the king and therefore the Iron Throne. And this Kingsguard played the game poorly, not like Ser Jaime who seemed to always be coming up with one plot or another, usually with his sister or father. It was an entanglement of lies, tricks and lovely words that were only revealed to be false when a sharp knife cut them open. That was the game, to win or to die. Unfortunately for the knight, there were many players he could not contend with easily.

Ser Jon sighed as they made their ascent towards the Red Keep, surely his absence had been noted by many. The Lion he could handle, it was the king's uncle that brought worry to the knight. Ever since the Queen Elia permitted her son to sit in on small council meetings along side her, Viserys had hounded the boy. It was a sight to see, the internal war he brought to the king each and every day. A man, nearing halfway through his twenties bullying a child. The High Lordship of Dragonstone was a trophy worth fighting for, but Viserys hungered too much for it though he knew it was reserved for when Aegon would produce an heir. Holding Dragonstone would signify that Viserys would be king after Aegon, and give him right to the throne even if Aegon had a son. Ser Jon frowned, Westeros had recovered from one civil war, only to be tempted into another.

"Ser Jon. How good of you to return to court." That voice rang like a bell, no one spoke so plainly and had a lie between their teeth at all times.

"Lord Varys." The knight had only stepped into the entrance corridor of the Red Keep when at his side now stood the Spider, lurking in the shadows as always. Barely into the Red Keep and already he was to be made prey of the game, such is the way of court. "I am relieved to be back."

"Yes, I can imagine so. You must have had quite a journey, Dragonstone is beautiful around this time. So I've heard. And you were able to spend several weeks there."

"On the king's business."

"Oh no doubt, no doubt Ser. I was simply curious if what songs I heard were singing true to their note."

"And what songs would that be, Varys?" Ser Jon dismissed his knights and began to walk along side the Spider.

"That you were on the king's business, of course. What else should I have heard?"

"I would think nothing more."

"Oh no? Then perhaps it is merely a coincidence you wished to speak alone. I myself am not very shy, as you may know. It gives me hope that my song birds have not failed me."

"What are you playing at Spider?"

"Playing? My lord, I play at nothing. I merely wished to remark upon your return from tiring business at Dragonstone on behalf of our king."

Every syllable that came from this eunuch made Ser Jon want to walk away and ignore him, but for all the insect Varys was, he did not waste time lightly.

"So, you know then?"

"Know, my lord? I think everyone knows that you went to Dragonstone."

"You know why I went there, then?"

"Oh, well officially you went to assess the holding, its land and people to be sure that it is properly kept." Varys glanced behind him and to the side before looking at the knight, hushing his voice. "Unofficially, you went to assess the value of a certain treasure."

"I wish I were surprised, but if I were startled by everything you knew Lord Varys, my heart would fail."

"I'll take that as a compliment Ser. Oh, but don't worry. No one else knows nor need know, not yet anyways. Certainly they will not hear it from me."

"Yes, you've told me just how good you are at keeping secrets."

"Indeed so!" They stopped before the open large doors to the Great Hall, both glancing into the deserted room, save for a few posted guardsmen. "The Iron Throne is safer with this treasure."

"So who do you suspect?"

"Suspect? Oh I suspect everyone my lord knight. Though if you mean who may know about our little secret, then I would have to say the Lion."

"And?"

"Ooh, you know me well. The Lion and the lioness wearing a stag's skin."

"Cersei Baratheon. I knew that the Hand of the King was suspicious, though I fail to see why his daughter is getting involved."

"Who could possibly say? I cannot, but I can say this: someone knows that you know something. Soon enough, that precious treasure may not be very safely kept, not even in Dragonstone."

"And what would you have me do Varys?"

"Ser Connington!" A new voice, a strong bold one. Both Varys and Ser Jon turned to see Tywin Lannister entering the Great Hall from the back entrance, walking across to the pair.

"Oh now this won't be fun. You are in a bit of trouble my lord knight. I will take my leave." Varys said, bowing his head to Tywin before he slipped away into the shadows of the Red Keep once more.

"My Lord Hand." Ser Jon said, bowing his head. "I'm glad to see you looking well."

On the other side of the Red Keep in the royal library, someone else had taken an interest in Ser Jon. While he wasn't overly pleased to have stumbled off a ladder trying to reach a few books, he was happy to sink himself into their pages and absorb the knowledge that they held. For some time, even before his arrival the week prior, had he been interested in the workings of the court, the king and what the Kingsguard Ser Jon Connington was actually doing at Dragonstone. He was bored though, going through old documents and journals about mummer farces. Or at least to him, a lot of it seemed to be children tales.

Enough was enough though, he shut the book he was glancing over and pushed himself out of his seat, half-wadding from the library. The servants would put the books back, luckily none were of huge precious value else he would have done it himself, but right now he lacked the time. Time was precious with Ser Jon already being hunted down, he was sure of it. Oh the knight thought he was clever, maybe so in the face of the Hand of the King but not when faced with Tyrion Lannister. No, this lion already had a hunch.

The dwarf walked in high spirits as he whistled his infamous tunes that often echoed Casterly Rock and Storm's End. It annoyed one ear or another continuously, many would call him unlucky for his curse as a high-born small man. Fortunate smiled on him now though, actually if fortune were a whore, she had just thrown herself onto Tyrion and was already baring his children. Ser Jon was walking towards him, looking drained and discouraged. Apparently someone had already interrogated him and it took much of his already depleted mental strength.

"Ser Jon Connington. I don't believe we've met." Tyrion said with a big grin. "By the looks of you, my father already gave you his greetings over your return. How kind."

"Ah, Lord Lannister. Forgive me, but I must rest." The knight walked right by the Imp, not so much as giving him a second glance. Tyrion stopped for a second before he followed in haste, or as quick as his small legs would permit him.

"Understandable considering your duties in Dragonstone. I do have a question for you though."

"It can wait Lord Lannister, I am tired." He continued to walk away from the dwarf, anger brewing in his tone.

"That's just the thing. It can't wait. I wanted to know if I could get a look at the eggs. You see I'm morbidly obsessed with dragons and-" Tyrion rambled on, but before he knew it, the knight stopped suddenly and he bumped into him, falling back. Ser Jon drew his sword and pointed it at the Imp.

"Watch your fowl mouth dwarf. How do you know about the eggs? Who told you!?" Ser Jon was not one to lose his temper, but this had been kept secret from all, including the king.

"Now, now Ser Jon... no need for violence. I just had a hunch."

"A hunch? You expect me to believe that you had a hunch about secret information that only a few select know of? Don't mock me."

"My lord, you are of the Kingsguard. That makes you a very good warrior. I am one third your height, that makes me less than ideal in stature for a warrior. You could take a piss on me with one hand and slice my head off with the other. I'm hardly in any position to mock you, especially since I'm fallen back like a maiden on her wedding night. So please, be gentle."

"I said watch your fowl mouth. Do you take me for a fool?"

"I take you for a knight, Ser Jon. And I, am unarmed." Tyrion said, tilting his face and pouting his lip. He was right after all, Ser Jon knew. He should not have drawn his sword so quick, but it seemed like treacherous talk to him. The knight gave the Imp the benefit of the doubt, and sheathed his sword behind his back before reaching down to heave the small man to his feet.

"Better. Much better. I was getting dirty."

"How do you know?"

"Know? Anyone who can read would know. You have log entries in your archives about expeditions sailing by the Doom, Qarth and more. Not to mention the funds it takes to acquire the-"

"Mind the words you use Lord Lannister."

"Sorry. Fine, it's hard to miss how a lot of money goes missing to get hold of... um..."

"Treasure."

"Ah. Clever word. They are treasure after all, most precious and rare. So much so that you have a dozen of them."

"A... dozen? How could you possibly..."

"It's a guess. I might be wrong, no matter. You have a lot of them though. Probably all fake. Perchance one real, a test is required to assure that is unthinkable." Tyrion eyed the knight as he spoke. "You're not... actually thinking of going to do so. Are you?"

"For the realm, we must."

"The realm? Is that what this is about? The realm needs dragons fluttering through the skies, burning farms and towns. King's Landing too, no doubt about that. Aegon the Dragonbreeder who lets them fuck once again in the dragon pit. You have got to be joking Ser Jon."

"This is no joke dwarf."

"A small one perhaps, on you though. It's dangerous. I want to help."

"Help? How?"

"I can be of use." The knight stared at Tyrion Lannister before glancing around.

"It is not safe to speak here Lord Lannister. We have spoken more than we should have. With all hope, only friends have been easing in on our talk."

"You would like to think that. Fine then. We will rendezvous, like a star-crossed couple who are destined to be torn apart despite their love. Though imagining you in love is quite difficult."

"I have loved."

"Oh have you? Your mother doesn't count."

"Someone who was noble, kind and as precious as silver."

"Quaint. Well then, Ser Jon, I leave you to your thoughts of love. I will gather my sources and present my findings to you. Or the king if he grants me audience."

"The king need not know of this, Lord Lannister."

'Oh, the king need not know.' Varys thought, smiling as he silently listened from behind a false wall. 'I do love conversations that end that way.'

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**_Author's Note_**: I've always liked Varys, he's always somehow in the middle of everything and people blatantly suspect him, but he tends to do well regardless of what storms come. Remember to review, follow or favorite please! Cersei is coming, mark my words!

**_Review Response_**: To Master of the RedSand, I've tried to be careful with my research but will check back to be sure! And yeah, Aegon is semi-OC in this case so I'm developing him still, part of the reason I put him as a character in transition. I will keep trying though! Thanks for the comment! :)

**_Review Response #2_**: Tto Guest, thanks! I'm glad you like it. Yes Daenarys will be making an appearance, or multiple ones since Viserys got some spotlight, it seems only fair. She maaay play a major role, I haven't decided yet. Thanks for the review!

**_Review Response #3_**: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks so much for the comment! I'm happy you think I'm doing well so far! More Arya and Aegon? Already in the planning. Will try to make it extra-special. Someone gets bruised though, will leave you to guess who. :D

**_Please Note_**: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	5. Chapter 4 - Master of Dance

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

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**Chapter 4: Master of Dance**

Strike, one two three. She was hit. Strike, one two. Hit again. Strike, one two three four. Hit and her sword slid across the ground. Syrio raised a brow, staring down his pupil before he nodded towards the sword. Arya rubbed the back of her hand, she would remember that move. Remember it because of how much it stun her bone though her dancing master was gentle with her. As she retrieved her wooden sword, the pain became a friendly reminder.

"You are slow boy. I thought you came to learn."

"I thought you said every hurt is a lesson."

"And every lesson you do not absorb, boy."

"Stop calling me a boy! I'm a girl!"

"Boy, girl, whichever the case, you do not learn."

"It's only been five days... I've never played with swords, only sticks."

"Ah but this is not playtime child. This is death, and what do we say to death?" Syrio wagged his finger at Arya who only shrugged.

"You know the Red God, girl?"

"I know the old and new gods."

"Ah, the old ever silent. The new, ever polished and bright. There is only one god everywhere in the world and his name is death."

"That's a bleak faith."

"Bleak maybe but it keeps you alive. The sword is the worship, the dance is the ceremony. We say not today to the god of death, and that is the art of the blade."

"What about people who die?"

"Then the god of death has claimed them as his prize. Now, enough chatter boy. If your feet moved as much as your lips, you would be a master by now." Syrio chuckled as he took stance, Arya in a fit of annoyance charged at him, only to find herself on the ground. At Winterfell, Jon Snow had given Arya a sword after she had been denied several times the opportunity to learn with her brothers, instead sent to work her needle. And now she had a new Needle, and her father had not been pleased. Jon had gotten quite a scolding from his lordly father, but he eventually came around and hired Syrio Forel from Braavos to teach his younger daughter the sword dance. And now almost a week later, she was starting to get good enough that she could actually manage to hold her own for a few strikes of the wooden swords against each other.

Their dance continued all day long and Arya often went to supper with bruises and scrapes, apparently Syrio had all sorts of strange tasks for his pupil to perform. All in the name of improving her swordplay. Sansa was put off, even ashamed of her sister's activity. She spent her days having tea and sweets, sewing or conversing with Princess Rhaenys, Princess Daenarys, Lady Myrcella Baratheon, Lady Margaery Tyrell, Lady Arianne Martell, and when she was well enough, Queen Elia. Though they were kind enough, for Sansa, Lady Myrcella and Lady Margaery were rivals to her, both contestants for the marriage bed of Aegon.

Though the king's cousin, Lady Arianne also would have been a choice if she were not in line to be the next Princess of Dorne after her father, the king's uncle. Prince Doran Martell frightened Sansa, he sometimes needed two canes to walk from his gout and he looked pale one moment and red or sweaty the next. Sansa was relieved though, not to have to compete with Lady Arianne who was of two years past twenty and thus was well matured, who had beautiful olive skin and large soulful eyes with long, silky curls of raven. Surely she would have the choice of any suitor in the Seven Kingdoms and beyond. Even the king, given chance.

And then there was the ever-absent Lady Asha Greyjoy who was offered as a potential bride to the king, and she had come to King's Landing with her father and brothers, yet she never presented herself to Aegon after the official welcoming. Maybe she didn't actually want to marry the king. Sansa disliked her, she looked mean and cruel, all the Greyjoys did. It always slipped her mind though that there was one more who was being presented as a bride for the king, but had much less chance of it even against Lady Asha. And that was Arya.

Arya knew Sansa thought she was just a stupid girl playing at swords, she could feel it in her stare each night they ate supper in the appointed Stark dormitory. She had avoided talking to her sister as much as she could, especially when Sansa learned that she had sat next to Aegon and called him short at the feast. That had been a surprise to everyone, now the young she-wolf was scorned by the entire court. Arya didn't care though, she had Needle and Syrio, and Jon, and Ghost. She had plenty of people, she didn't need Sansa, the ladies, Queen or the princesses and their tea or silly talks.

And as for being a bride for Aegon, she liked that idea even less. Lord Stark had tried to convince her it would be a good alliance for the North since a Stark had never wed into the Targaryen family, much less to be a consort to one. While he had hated the Mad King and even Rhaegar for stealing away his sister, he tried not to feel harshly towards the boy king as much as he could manage. Still, he did wish he was back in Winterfell and a part of him, a large part hoped that neither of his girls would be accepted by the king as a wife so that they might return North with him. Arya would be almost completely happy to return home, except that there was no Syrio there. The First Sword of Braavos would be returning home in a month's time and Arya wanted to get every moment she could with him to learn every step of his dance.

Strike, one. Hit. Strike, one two three. Hit again. The clashing wooden swords echoed in the hall where they practiced, out into corridors and courtyards as did every yelp Arya made when Syrio slapped her hands or her arms. The royal guards snickered often, most in the Red Keep did not hold the Stark in high opinion nor did some of the Targaryens. King Aegon knew that the young girl had a swordmaster, though it mattered little to him since he had all the best training that money and loyalty could get him. Today though as he stepped through the courtyard, glancing up at the noises while walking along the flagstone path around a fountain, he felt himself curious.

Everyone knew and expected him to master the sword, else be like Baelor the Blessed and resort to a life of piety. His Nameday would be one to remember, with the greatest tournament ever seen planned for the date. Aegon would not take part. While some in court mocked him for his height, only in the most private of places did anyone dare laugh about his sword skills. If the king were made to look weak, even by gossip, the balance of power would slip and many were already struggling to maintain the delicate vying for influence with the Iron Throne. All except Tywin Lannister who at times went as far to call the king a craven.

Today though, he would be brave. He was the Dragon, of Fire and Blood. Leaving the courtyard accompanied by Ser Barristan, Ser Connington and two other of his Kingsguard, he made his way up flights of stairs to the upper levels where the swordplay was unfolding. Even a distance away from the training, the noises the wooden swords and Arya made could still be heard, likely it was getting intense from the girl's frustration.

As Aegon entered into the vaulted hall, Syrio snatched away the wooden sword from Arya with such ease that the girl was baffled. She truly thought she was making a good strike against her teacher, looking confused until the swordmaster bowed low at the waist. Turning, she saw the king and too bowed before him though she kept her eyes on him. She was a mess, her brown trousers were ripped on one knee, her blue tunic ruffled, hair tangled and face all sweaty. While he was a portrait of kingly splendor, wearing a black tunic and vest that was dotted with tiny ivory pearls, dark gray trousers that had gold stitched along the outer sides in an elaborate pattern, and even darker red leather boots that were lined with soft, black bunny fur. And as always, a circlet adorned his head, with tiny rubies and onyx scattered in a chaotic pattern along the silver piece.

"Your Grace." Syrio said with high respects, Arya mumbling an echo of her teacher's greeting.

"Master Forel. Lady Stark. Forgive the intrusion, I could not help but overhear your session and found myself desiring to witness it."

"Truly, your Grace?" Syrio asked as he stood straight, both wooden swords in hand by their blades. "I would have imagined you would not, seeing as you sent two of my fellows home in a deep shame."

"Mind yourself dancer." Ser Barristan said lowly, almost with anger.

"Oh, I meant no offense your Grace. It is no fault of your kingship, but more the failure of two inferior swords who would call themselves masters."

"Inferior?" Aegon asked, frankly shocked and he could not hide it. Syrio saw this and smiled, the king would have thought that the First Sword of Braavos would have sympathy for those trainers and be disgruntled with the Targaryen.

"Yes, your Grace. Inferior."

"And you are not then? Inferior, I mean?" Aegon asked, glancing at Arya and then back to the swordmaster.

"Syrio is not inferior! He's the best teacher!" Arya shouted as she took a step forward.

"Do not raise your voice to your king!" Now Ser Barristan was angry, and the other Kingsguard looked just as displeased with the Stark girl. Except for Ser Connington.

"I... uh..." Arya hadn't even noticed the entourage.

"Quiet girl. The boy king wishes to speak."

"I am no boy." Aegon spoke calmly.

"No? This one said the same." Syrio said nodding towards Arya. "Are you a girl too then?"

"Careful Braavosi, I'm warning you." Ser Barristan said, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. The other knights had already readied themselves, in case this dancer would be an issue. While Ser Jon also readied himself, he did so casually, his eyes were locked on Aegon and would remain so.

"Do you know exactly who I am, swordmaster?" Aegon asked mockingly.

"Of course. You are the king here. The lord and master."

"Yet you call me a girl?"

"That is a fact, I did yes."

"I am the Dragon. I am the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. You will show proper respect to me in my lands!" Aegon snapped, it was his turn to start to get angry.

"Don't bully Syrio!" Arya snapped back, Aegon turned his head quick to the Stark who had just as wrathful a face on as he did.

"Quiet girl, you are to speak when spoken to!"

"You barged in, you're the one being rude!"

"Why you-"

"Your Grace." Syrio cut in, stepping next to Arya, looking down at her, grinning before he moved between the two. "You wish respect? You must earn it. This may be your land but all lands are commanded by the sword. And you wish to command respect. So..."

The swordmaster held out the hilt of one of the wooden swords to Aegon while the other he held towards Arya who took it right away. Aegon frowned as he stared at the wooden weapon before glancing to the Stark girl. Surely she would be no trouble, how could she be?

"My knights." Aegon glanced over his shoulder. "Wait outside."

"Your Grace, I would recommend..."

"Outside." Aegon repeated, and Ser Barristan sighed quietly as he nodded, bowing his head.

"As it pleases you, my king."

The king took the sword from Syrio and readied himself as the Kingsguard stepped out of the hall, though they stood in the corridor, staring in. Aegon stood facing Arya, both hands tight on the sword pointing downwards which caused the swordmaster raised a brow at his lordly stance while Arya turned to the side and held her sword delicately. The pair stared at each other fiercely, and when Syrio took a step back to permit the spar, they both burst forward.

"How is this for respect?" Aegon growled, sword striking across Arya's, turning as he avoiding her counter swing, finding his weapon against her back.

"Dead." Syrio noted, the two backing away from each other, Arya moving towards him first this time.

"Not very good since I'm just a girl. And shorter than you. Did you forget that already?"

"You have a big mouth for such a small girl."

"Says the small boy!" Arya said with a grin, Aegon's face flushed and turned a deep red as he took another swing. He missed as Arya moved away but soon enough he got her in the chest with the point of his wooden blade.

"Dead."

"You're not a very good fighter." Aegon snickered.

"And you're not a very good king."

"What..." He was too shocked, and she got a hit on him in his arm.

"Dead."

"You heard me." She said cockily.

"How... you... Others take you!" He swore, striking her in the side. Arya stood to long deciding which direction to dodge as the king struck her harder than before.

"Dead."

"Watch it! This is a spar, not a butchery! Or are you too dumb to spar, your Grace?"

"You mock me girl! Never do it again or I will strike you down!"

"If your lips moved as much as you fought, you would be a great warrior by now." Syrio smirked at Arya's words. If the blades were as sharp as the girl's tongue, it would be a bloodbath.

"And what about you? You're the stupid unwanted sister of a beautiful lady!"

"What? Sansa? You like her? Keep her! Please! The whole North will actually like you then."

"The North? I don't give two damns about the North!" Aegon spat as he avoided her swing, taking his own as he knocked her sword from her hands onto the floor.

"Dead."

"You should!" Arya walked over to the side of the room, picking up her wooden blade. By now the corridors had several guards and servants peeking in, but the Kingsguard kept them clear in case they needed to rush in.

"Why should I care about some barbaric First Men from a snowy wasteland?"

"Because." Arya said, she was calm as she shrugged. "You're our king."

"Then treat me like one! Show respect for your liege!"

"You don't respect me! Why should the North love a king who doesn't love them?" She barked. Aegon stood there for a moment, stunned by her words, though soon rage filled him as his face turned red almost purple, swinging wildly and knocking her sword from her hands again. This went on for a few rounds, Arya continually picking her weapon back up.

"I'll teach you to respect and love your king!"

"Not if I teach you some respect first!" She shouted now, her turn to swing hard even as she held the blade delicately. There was a loud snap, Aegon's sword flying across the floor as he cried in pain, grabbing his hand where she struck him. Syrio took Arya's wooden sword fast as the Kingsguard flew in.

"You damned girl! Others take you! Others take your family and the North!" He shrieked, his eyes were becoming bloodshot, his face flustered and sweaty. His circlet had fallen from his head during one of the rounds, his tunic torn at the shoulder.

"That is enough for today." The swordmaster announced, watching the knights as they brought the king among them, Ser Barristan going to check Aegon's hand but he pulled away.

"Take her! Arrest her! Arrest the Stark bitch who thinks she can assault the Dragon! Take her I said! I command it!" He shouted, harder and harder until he coughed. One of the knights moved towards Arya, another followed as Syrio stepped in front of the girl.

"Out of the way Braavosi, the king has given his orders." Ser Barristan said, looking at the girl. He wasn't angry for the spar, just her words of insult. The Kingsguard approaching Syrio drew his sword, ready to carry out the king's command at any cost.

"This girl is my pupil, you will not take her."

"Don't make us shed blood dancer." The knights said, frowning as Syrio did not let down, holding the wooden sword in his gloved hand.

"What are you waiting for!? I gave you an order! Seize-"

"Enough your Grace!" Ser Jon snapped, grabbing the king's arm that was pointed towards Arya.

"Connington!" Aegon was surprised, all sorts of surprised. Not only had his Kingsguard never spoken to him like this before, least of all had Ser Connington ever wavered in his duties.

"No good will come from abusing the lady. It was a fair fight, your Grace." Ser Jon did not let down, even as Aegon struggled to pull his arm from the knight's grip.

"Fair? She broke my hand! I'll have her head put on a spike! Let the world know that the Dragon-" Ser Jon struck the king across the face with the back of his hand. If the Dragon had not been awake before, it certainly was now, but the knight spoke quickly.

"Your father, would be very disappointed in you for this." As Ser Jon spoke, the words hit harder than the sword had. All at once Aegon's anger left him and a deep, hollow pit of remorse was left over as his arm was finally released.

"Ser Connington!" Ser Barristan growled at his fellow knight, turning to him with his sword drawn.

"No." Aegon said, looking away from everyone. "Leave this."

Arya was white as a ghost, too afraid to speak by all the real swords around her, pointed at her. The knights sheathed their blades as they followed Aegon from the room, no longer clutching his hand but holding the cheek that his own Kingsguard had struck. By the time they had escorted the king out, Arya still hadn't come out of her shock. Syrio put his arm around her and rubbed her shoulder.

"You did well child. But you... ah, you have a big mouth."

* * *

"I say the girl should be put to death." Cersei said in a plain tone as she held the arm of her husband. Stannis nodded in agreement, taking a sip of wine with his free arm. "Along with this oathbreaking excuse for a Kingsguard."

"My daughter was sparing with the king. Nothing more." Ned snapped at the Baratheons, Catelyn didn't know what to say, too scared to voice herself in fear of making matters worse.

"So he got beaten by a girl, good for him. Piss on his pride and honor, he got a lesson. He should take it like a man or make his revenge." Lord Balon Greyjoy scoffed.

"The girl attacked our king. That's punishable with her head. The king spoke the truth, the North is barbaric." Cersei smacked her palm lightly on the table. Oh she was delighted alright. She hated the Starks, and seeing one of them put down was a pleasure to her.

"I agree. My nephew was injured by this Stark. The girl should be punished, though not with death." Lord Doran Martell sighed out, Ned looked to him and nodded.

"And she will be punished. I promise you all that. By my means I will see our king gets justice."

"You, Lord Stark? You would punish your own daughter?" Cersei laughed softly, shaking her head.

"She's just a young girl Lady Baratheon. What if it were your Joffrey who had injured the king instead?" Jon Arryn questioned.

"All I am saying is that this cannot be overlooked." She replied

"And it won't be." Lord Tywin said as he leaned into his chair. "The small council has been discussing the matter. The queen is beside herself in fever and worry from the situation and it will not be tolerated. The fact is Stark, that your daughter has brought shame and grief to your House."

"The small council? What business is it of theirs to handle the situation with my daughter?"

"Watch yourself Stark, it concerns the king and so concerns the entire realm. The treason of a Kingsguard and the injury of our lord makes this business of the realm." The Hand sneered, all too glad for this. "Had there been real blades used, she may have murdered King Aegon."

"Now we're talking about murder!? It was wooden swords, plain and clear as the seasons!" Ned shouted as he stood. Catelyn rising up with him slowly afterwards.

"My lords." Lady Stark said softly, gesturing her hands towards all the Lord Paramounts seated at the table, especially towards her brother and brother-in-law. "She is a child and a wild one. I know this too well as her mother. I beg you to see it in your hearts to forgive her, she will be dealt with, rightly by her parents."

"It is not our place to forgive, Lady Stark." Lord Mace Tyrell finally spoke up, looking at the pair standing. "It is only the king who can offer that."

"And his Grace will not grant you audience. You may count on that Starks." Tywin said with a smirk.

"As I said, both of them should be put to death. Rightly so by our king." Cersei spoke up again.

"Mind your words Lady Baratheon. Your own brother is an oathbreaker for slaying the Mad King. Should the king put him to justice for the murder of his grandfather?" Ned barked out, making Cersei frown deeply but she tried to continue her casual tone.

"Where is the girl now?" She asked, glancing around.

"With her dancing master." The Hand answered with a sigh. "An unrestrained beast that would be better placed if in the dungeon."

"And where is the king?" Ned demanded.

"Under guard while his wound is being tended to. Maester Pycelle is with him, pray the gods let the boy have the use of that hand. Or your daughter will lose her's."

"Actually," Jon Arryn looked over at the Hand. "his Grace is with Ser Jon Connington, I saw them only earlier. It seems he was going to pay the young lady a visit."

"...What?!"

Strike, one two. Hit. Strike, one two. Hit. The pace of training seemed slow today, Arya's mind wandering too much even though Syrio forced her to concentrate on their swordplay. He too felt worried, but it could not be seen in his steps or his art as his blade moved. The pair stopped, hearing the heavy footsteps of guards approaching from down the corridor. Aegon came in, hand bandaged though it gripped a wooden sword. Ser Jon was by his side.

"I demand a rematch." The king announced as Arya and Syrio bowed, she looking rather surprised. "If it would please you, Lady Arya Stark of the North."

* * *

**_Author's Note_**: Sorry for the delay in this chapter! I think Aegon is developing into more of an angry character. Perhaps the influence of Viserys? He had so many pressing down on him, he has to vent somehow. And it seems his subjects get the worst of it. What could possibly tame this wild dragon? Is it as simple as marriage? Or does he need something more? Well, you'll all find out eventually! The adventure hasn't even begun yet, though it may soon! There are some chapters in the planning and writing, very exciting I think. And remember to review, favorite, follow, recommend, talk endlessly about, and obsessively refresh the story! Or Cersei will get you, and your little dragon too!

**_Review Response_**: To Misery Loves Sarah, hopefully this was a good delivery of Aegon and Arya! And as well, I think I made good on my promise for bruising! Both for pride and for hands. Not sure if it ended up being a good or bad thing that Aegon came crawling back for a rematch... at least Arya gets to keep her head!

**_Review Response #2_**: To Chronos, Jon Snow as a bastard doesn't have a place with mingling with the royals. Not yet anyways, he will become a more major role later on. Befriend? Mmm... it may be, but perhaps they'll simply maintain a rivalry, haven't decided just yet! Aegon is hardly a good warrior (apparently a pretty poor loser), has had little chance to lead with Tywin and his mother holding back his authority... soooo we'll see if he can beat the odds. For him though, the game of thrones hasn't even really begun, soon though! Thank you for the comment! :D

**_Review Response #3_**: To Master of the Red Sands, yeah grammar is not my forte at all (and English is my mother tongue to boot). I'm glad you like it better, but yes that's a huge issue for me that I'm very seriously trying to overcome. I overtell stories and don't let the plot or characters speak for themselves. Though a lot of it is trying to explain my alternate universe at least, such as with Ser Jon Connington who probably isn't as well known as say Tyrion Lannister. This chapter though was semi-dedicated to dialogue for that reason! Hopefully it made due. I'll try to pull the sticks out from now on, any suggestions for that? Let me know what you think of this chapter's dialogue! Thanks so much for the comment and advice, much appreciated! :)

**_Please Note_**: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	6. Chapter 5 - Fateful Encounter

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Fateful Encounter**

The room was dark, a cool late-summer's breeze whaling quietly around the lilac silk draperies as they wavered. Warmth was leaving the room steadily, the fire having long burned out and servants were barked out as Aegon sat on the floor, back to a pillar with his knees pressed against his chest. The boy was sure that his uncle was ready to kill him, only an hour ago. His eyes stun with tears and throat throbbed painfully, every muscle in his body tense as he shivered but not from the air coming from the sea. Fear gripped him, tighter than Viserys' hands had and fear kept him in the dark more than his burning eyes blurred his vision as the tears came and went. The worst was his scalp although little of his hair had actually ripped out, the pain remained fresh and vibrant.

Slowly as if afraid of his own hand, the boy reached to comb through his hair ever so gently while avoiding touching the skin. It was getting long, just below his shoulders now. Aegon could hardly feel surprised by his uncle's words.

"I am the whore of the realm." He muttered, it felt better to say it aloud. His hand fell back to his knees and the boy began to sob hard, his chest heaving against his knees as he whimpered like a beaten pup. His mind felt shattered and his thoughts flickered in and out of existence in a chaos of fleeting emotions that battled each other, causing the boy much anxiety.

It was the footsteps that awoke him from the field of war inside his mind. Jerking up, and holding very still as he listened. Soft slippers, quick and nibble with each step they took, sometimes sliding against the stone. It could only be her.

"There you are..." The young girl whispered, Aegon's silver hair unmistakeable in the moonlight. She hurried over to him and hugged her nephew tight, pressing his head to her chest, breaking his self-bondage. Aegon slipped his arms around her as he shook and sobbed.

"Dany... Dany..." He repeated over and over as she cooed him, stroking his hair, more gently as he winced from the touch. Viserys gave them a bond, a mutuality and a place in each others arms.

"Shh... it's alright. Oh Aegon... I never thought he would..."

"Dany... What happened?" He sniffled, his world was upside down.

"It doesn't matter. He's not here." She hushed him, squeezing him tight. "Aegon, you have to tell your mother. Or at least Rhaenys."

"No." He looked up at her quickly. "No, please Dany. Mother would surely die from the news. And Rhae..."

"That's not true. Aegon you're not alone." She whispered and pressed him against her once more. "Oh my sweet king. I love you so. We all love you so."

"He said he would hurt Rhae next if I told... hurt her... he would... ruin her wedding night." Daenerys was silent at Aegon's words, her body shaking as she began to weep with him. Her brother had made the same threats to her, spreading her legs open and mocking her with a grind or present his manhood, squeeze her chest or feel her in other places.

"Your Kingsguard... please Aegon..."

"No. They... they don't need a weak king."

"Oh my sweet stars..."

The sun was bright as it dawned, a beautiful red horizon striped with gold and bronze. And the pillars of light reached all across the sky as beams perched with the pair leaning against the pillar, each in the other one's arms. Their faces were covered in dried tears, eyes puffy from the restless night. Huddled together, it seemed as if they were something more in a wondrous way. Daenerys was a bit tall for her thirteen years, as much as Aegon and slim too. Pressed into their entangled arms, they appeared as if they once shared a womb, silver heads touching with their eyes peacefully shut. It was a sight, especially for the servants who found them that way and immediately slipped away to inform the Kingsguard who had been at their regular duties or just arousing from their own sleep.

Ser Jon Connington rushed through the corridors, holding back as he neared the room. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he pushed opened the door and stepped in, glancing down at the two dragons. For a moment he saw Rhaegar, in both of them but he knew it was of course not so. The knight moved closer, kneeling down while he took his gloves off, resting a bare hand on Aegon's arm.

"Your Grace..."

"Mmm..." The pair murmured as they stirred, blinking the sleep away as they peered up at the man looming over.

"Your Grace, have you been here all night?"

"Ser Jon..." Aegon felt himself weary as he woke, chest and head aching as he sat up.

"We must have fallen asleep." Daenerys said as she softly cleared her throat.

"It seems that way my princess." Ser Jon stood and helped the young girl up, then Aegon.

"It's beautiful outside..."

"That it is my princess, but for now you should both be up and go to break fast. Your royal sister waits."

"Rhaenys?" Aegon asked, his elder sister was a mystery to him and much of the Red Keep. If anyone knew the secret passages better than he, it was Rhaenys.

"Yes your grace."

"Let's go eat with her Aegon!" Daenerys took him by the hand, Ser Jon laughed at the pair as he followed behind.

"Hungry, princess?"

"Oh... not that." She said quietly, not looking back at the knight as she and her nephew headed towards the royal dining hall. Arriving there, Rhaenys already was seated, in a light of glorious beauty in one of the five chairs around the marble table that was overflowing with fruits, breads and pastries, and small meats. While Daenerys and Aegon seemed to be a matching pair, Rhaenys was unlike the other Targaryens. Her skin was of dark polished olive, tall and slender with hands that were neither delicate nor stout. The princess' eyes were of burning gold flecks with darkened lips that gave her a passionate look to her. And with beautiful locks of brown crowning her, she could easily be mistaken for being a Lady of Dorne more than a Princess of Westeros.

"Ahh, Aeg. Dany." She smiled at the pair, hands in her lap as she waited. Rhaenys was every image of a highborn, at least right now.

"You're a surprise." Aegon said as he took a seat next to her while Daenerys sat across.

"As much as your eyes? Gods, did you sleep at all Aegon?" She took his chin and lifted it, her hold was firm enough but gentle. In many ways, Aegon was reminded of their mother by his sister.

"Some." Was all he answered when she let go and began to eat.

"His Grace and the princess were in-" Ser Jon began but Aegon made a hissing sound as he turned to the knight who was quiet instantly, and looking rather displeased that he may have spoken out of line.

"Were where?" Rhaenys asked, tilting her head at the Kingsguard before looking to Daenerys. "My lovely aunt, where were you two?"

"The same place you were during the feast." Aegon said quickly before his aunt could answer.

"I told you, my dear, darling, little brother." Rhaenys still smiled, enunciating in a low tone. "I was occupied."

"With?"

"Oh this and that, mostly that but some of this."

"You're being secretive again."

"And what about you hm? Where were you and Dany?"

"Good morning family!" A voice called before Aegon could come up with an answer, he sunk in his seat some.

"Good morning uncle." Rhaenys said, half-hissing.

"It's a beautiful morning and the air outside is just asking to be breathed in. Perfect day for a ride." Viserys sat in his seat between Rhaenys and Daenerys, neither were looking at him. "It's a shame, nephew that you can't leave King's Landing. You would love a good country riding... Where is the queen? She should eat and get strength."

"Mm." Rhaenys bit down on her fork hard as she chewed a grape, he knew full well their mother was still ill.

"I will be able to leave the city for the tournament on the morrow." Aegon said, trying to ignore Viserys as much as he could.

"Really? Oh yes that's right. Your Nameday. How exciting. You get to play king at last!" Viserys snickered.

"He is the king, uncle." The princess looked at Viserys who had stopped eating to look at her, smiling, though his eyes were angry.

"Of course he is, but all fun and games come to an end."

"It's not fun and it's certainly not a game, uncle. You would not enjoy being king." Aegon spoke up, though immediately silenced himself as Viserys rested his hands down on the hard table with a thud. They all sat in silence, Ser Jon and the other Kingsguard present glanced worryingly at each other while the Targaryens sat under a heavy awkwardness. Daenerys was the only one eating now, but she did so without any sudden movements. Aegon had his head lower, hands rested on either side of his plate as he stared at it while Rhaenys was watching her uncle closely.

"Well. Perhaps." He finally said as he returned to eating, still watching Aegon who put his fork and knife down, standing without more than a mumble to excuse himself. He could feel his uncle's eyes on him as he left, though Viserys could feel Rhaenys' glare burning into the side of his skull like molten gold.

The Red Keep was in a bustle with the first royal tournament in more than a decade happening the following day. Aegon stared up at the vaulted ceilings, glancing at the carved arches and hanging banners while he ever so slowly walked through the corridors. Every servant and guard had the sense to bow as they walked around him, not daring disturb the king's thoughts. Most didn't even notice he wore the same clothes he had the day before, which were creased from having slept on the floor all night. A whistle broke his hazy concentration, the king looked around for the tone's origin.

"Ah! Your Grace! Good morning." Glancing down, Aegon saw Tyrion Lannister and frowned. He had little patience for the lions today.

"Good morning." Aegon replied back to the bowing dwarf.

"You seem in damp spirits today. You should whistle! Whistling is fun, keeps you young."

"I don't whistle very well."

"Oh well neither do I but I still do it."

"You were whistling the lady's portion of _Dance of the Dragons_."

"Was I?" Tyrion asked sarcastically then tilted his head. "Was I really? Hm."

"Yes but if you'll excuse me." Aegon walked by him.

"If I may give some humble advice..."

"Thank you my lord but I'm not in need of advice."

"Ah, well then. I suppose not even a king need know he escaped death." Tyrion shrugged and began to whistle as he returned to his morning walk. Aegon had stopped, glancing over his shoulder unsure what to make of the Imp's comment.

"Wait."

"Hm? Yes your Grace?" Tyrion asked, spinning around and bowing again. The king's felt his tired eye twitch.

"What do you mean escaped death?"

"Oh you hadn't heard? Someone was found in your bedchambers last night. Oh don't worry, you weren't harmed, you weren't even there."

"What? An assassin?"

"Assassin, sell-sword, kingslayer, whatever you wish to name it, yes."

"Kingslayer? Your brother?"

"Ah no, not what I meant. Though I suppose he's not too trustworthy either."

"You would speak harsh about your own brother?"

"Oh don't get me wrong, I love my family, but truth is truth."

"How do you even know of the attack?" Aegon walked up to Tyrion, looking down at him. Even though the king was short for his age, the dwarf had to look all the way up to make eye contact.

"May we go sit somewhere my anxious king? You see my neck can only bend so much before it snaps. And as much as it would please many to see my head fall off, I would not." Tyrion gave a grin. Aegon didn't know what to make of this small man. He had nerve but he wasn't insulting as Jaime or Tywin would be, though he had heard this man was the cleverest of all the lions. The king felt himself on guard against the Imp.

"As you wish. I shall meet with you in the godswood where we might be alone."

"I think that unwise my king. You see my father is looking for you, and your very loyal Kingsguard refuse to tell him they already found you. Jaime has been kept in the dark so he as well does not know. If you want to go change your messy clothes I will go with you, we need to talk. Now."

"You dare?" Aegon was more stunned than angry.

"I dare to give you information that may save your life, yes."

"And why help the Dragon when you are the Lion's cub?"

"Cub? The gods are funny. I've been called the Imp, a dwarf, a half-man, the short man. I've been called a sardine once or twice in the Riverlands, but never a cub."

"Answer my question. And don't say that it's because I'm your king."

"Well if you must know I have no ill will towards my family nor you, but my father has always been a cunt to everyone and I simply do not like it."

"A cunt?"

"Gods, so much to teach you." Tyrion crossed his arms, giving a half smile to the king as he looked up at him with eyes of pity.

Aegon led Tyrion to his royal chambers, the two Kingsguard posted were wary at first but obeyed their lord. In no time at all, a hot bath was prepared for the king by the servants who were rushed away. In the room adjacent to his bedchamber, Aegon sat in the grand pool of steaming water that seemed rather close to boiling. Just how he liked it.

"So you've really never been outside of King's Landing? Not even for riding or hunting?" Tyrion called, he figured if he was going to sit by himself and wait for the king, he might as well make conversation. '_Who in the Seven Kingdoms and Hells can boast they've waited for the king to finish bathing. Oh wait, that's right, me. And every whore that's thrown herself at a king... what does that make me?_'

"I've never gone hunting. And I've only ridden in the courtyards and training grounds."

"You're a prisoner in your own home." Tyrion commented. "One day, you should visit the Wall."

"The Wall? No king has gone there in a hundred years."

"Exactly. And who will love a king who stays in his castle and never knows his lands?"

"You think I should travel the country?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Tyrion said but Aegon made no answer. The Imp prayed to the old and new gods that the king didn't slip as he heard him get out of the water, how was he going to explain a naked Targaryen who was injured and he was the only one around. The dwarf kept with the idle conversation, but Aegon made few responses that soon left Tyrion bored.

When the king stepped into the bedchamber, he was wrapped in a large woolen robe as he went behind a long black screen that was painted with red designs. Usually it was folded and put away but for times such as this it was brought out, Aegon took a moment to look at it curiously. It had been his grandfather's who often had courtiers in his room while he dressed, though according to rumor stopped using it and just gave audience in the nude.

"Strange. I told my servants I wanted the black and gold vestments."

"Oh that would be my doing. You're always dressed in the same colors at court, I figured it would do you some good to wear something fresh." Tyrion said, idly rolling around an empty goblet on the table next to him where he sat.

"Black is one of my House's arms colors."

"Yes but it doesn't mean you have to dress so morbidly. I'm no expert at fashion, but the amount of clothes you have in your storage could dress a hundred men for every meal."

"I have that much?"

"Your Grace you likely do not wear the same thing twice. Ever."

"Certainly I've never worn white. I feel like a Kingsguard." Aegon said as he stepped out, Tyrion raised a brow as he looked at him. The king had on a doublet of ivory with trousers to match, the hems were dotted with several rows of mini-pearls, the neckline with larger ones. On the breast was a golden three-headed dragon instead of the standard red one. The only thing perhaps more normal for Aegon was his boots that were a raven black with short black fur lining the top.

"Perhaps you do." Tyrion looked the king over, and felt himself blushing while he cursed the gods for making him look so like a maiden.

"I will keep your fashion sense in mind from now on." Aegon said as he sat opposite of the dwarf, his silver hair was still damp, and unkept as it draped over his shoulders. Tyrion cleared his throat.

"Yes well, let's talk about something more important that your dressings, your Grace."

"So then tell me, how do you know about the attack?"

"My father, of course. He's in a fit of anger at how tightly sealed the Kingsguards' lips are. If I were to observe this, I would assume that your Kingsguard suspect my lordly father."

"Suspect him? For wanting to kill me?"

"Yes exactly, however I do not think he would be part of such a plot."

"Seems convenient for you to want to clear your family's name."

"Oh I couldn't do that even if I wanted to. Not even spit in the Red Keep to polish off all the spots of dirt. I simply think there's someone else besides my father pulling strings."

"Why do you think that?"

"What does he gain? You are a fledgling king that he has a fair amount of control over. Oh don't look like that your Grace, it's true. The man treats you like a puppet and knows you won't retaliate. At least until you're crowned."

"So maybe he wants me dead before I'm crowned."

"No that still doesn't make sense. If you die, then your uncle Viserys would be king and that would be unpleasant even for my father. House Lannister has increased its strength greatly by serving your father and yourself these many years, it would be stupid to change the rules of the game now."

"Game? You think my life is a game?"

"Every life is, your Grace. Part of one anyways. Each of us is a piece, every bit of this land we call Westeros a great board. And we move, inch towards the Iron Throne. We duel out wits and iron, I prefer wits."

"Strange game to play."

"Strange maybe, but power is the prize. My king, when you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. My sister once said that." Tyrion looked over at Aegon who made a disturbed face. "Oh don't worry, it doesn't mean you die. Just the rest of us."

"That doesn't make me feel much better."

"Sorry. I have that effect on people." The dwarf said as the doors burst open and in came Viserys, the Kingsguard demanding he step away but it was too late.

"Dear nephew we must speak!" He said, anger in his voice. "Unhand me!"

"It's alright. Wait outside." Aegon said as he nodded to the Kingsguard who very reluctantly obeyed, letting go of Viserys. As soon as the door was shut, Viserys went over and put his hands on the arms of Aegon's chair, looking at him face to face.

"You dare touch my sister!"

"Touch her?"

"You don't think I know? Oh but I do. I know what you did. Don't think your little act earlier fooled anyone. I know, I do know."

"Know what uncle?..."

"If you touch my sister again, I will cut your balls off. Then you'll be a real maiden. And you'll be fit to marry me, like a real Targaryen. The dragon does not breed with inferior beasts, but you want to marry an outsider." He spat, Aegon was shaking in his seat."You're a pathetic lowlife that has-"

"That's quite enough my lord. You're frightening your nephew so much that if he rattles any louder, he'll cause the earth to quake." Tyrion said as he stood up, Viserys was startled, not having noticed the Imp there in his rage.

"Do you dare speak to me like this? I am a dragon!"

"Yes and I am a lion's cub, we know what each other are my lord."

"Oh do you? Do you now? Then learn your place cub, at the feet of the dragon or be crushed under them!"

"Crushed? I daresay I'm small enough to avoid any crushing."

"Your tongue will get cut out little man. I'll see to it. I'll do it myself."

"Will you?" Tyrion raised a brow, putting down the goblet he had been toying with. As he stepped towards Viserys, the much taller man backed away awkwardly. "Then permit me, oh great dragonly prince to tell you that if you ever wrong the king in any way, they will have your head to pay with."

"You... you dare! You dare you little bastardly dwarf!?"

"I dare to say that someone tried to kill the king today. Was it you?" Tyrion tilted his head as he looked up. The shock on Viserys' face was too priceless for the little man.

"Kill? I would never... I would... No it wasn't me. Sweet nephew, I had nothing to do with this!"

"No? I did just hear you threaten to cut the boy's balls off."

"Threaten? Who was threatening? Merely a joke."

"No one was laughing then." Tyrion said, but Viserys began to laugh a tear rolled down his face.

"You think you're funny then little Imp? You think you can say these things and not be burned by the dragon?! You will get what's coming to you. I'll make sure." Viserys said as he went to go towards Aegon but was blocked by Tyrion, the prince pushed the dwarf hard making stumble. Tyrion managed to stay on his feet as he saw Viserys grab Aegon by his doublet and hoist him to his feet.

"Call for your Kingsguard nephew. Have this little sack of flesh burned alive for his insult." Viserys hissed as he shook the king. "Do it! Do it now!"

"Kingsguard!" Tyrion shouted, in a rather pleased tone. Viserys looked at the dwarf, wide-eyed as the door opened and the two Kingsguards came in. "The prince is overstepping his boundaries of authority and handling the king roughly. Take him away."

"What?! No! Seize the Imp!" Viserys spat as he shoved Aegon down hard into the chair. "Do as your dragon commands!"

"You do not command them, only the king commands them. You have the boy so tense now that I don't think he could order it." Tyrion said, shaking his head. The knights looked between the dwarf and their king, seeing he was being truthful. "Kingsguard, take him away. Await the king's instruction once he recovers this trauma."

"No! Seize the Imp I said! Let me go! Let me go I said! I'll burn you all!" Viserys began to curse and swear, flailing like a fish as the Kingsguard were all too happy to drag him from the royal apartments. Tyrion walked over to Aegon and put a hand on his shoulder as the door closed.

"Are you alright, your Grace?"

"You.. you commanded my guard. You had my uncle taken."

"Yes I'm a usurper of your power, revealed now." Tyrion said lightheartedly but he was soon frowning as he looked at the king's unbrushed hair, moving his hand up but Aegon pulled away. How could he have missed this earlier. "He hurt you, didn't he? Last night. That's why you weren't in your bedchamber, and were with your aunt."

Tyrion looked at the king's scalp, it was partially swollen and red where he could only surmise how hard Viserys had to yank to cause this. Then looking down, against the pearls touching Aegon's neck, his fair skin was discolored and the dwarf could only shake his head. Soon though, a new realization dawned on him as to why Daenerys was with the king.

"Gods, does he hurt you both?"

* * *

Away from the light of dawn, concealed by the shadows of intrigue and lust was another pair. Their figures were dark silhouettes, barely visible even as light leaked into the room. They were together, pressed close so their whispers would not escape even in the bitter darkness.

"They say he was caught in seconds. He made too much noise and the king wasn't even abed." She hissed, biting her thumb as worry ran through her mind. His arms slipped around her, one groping her lower area while the other held her close to him. At first she tried to move away but soon surrendered.

"You think too much of it. No one can trace it back to us. We can try again." He whispered quietly in her ear.

"Try again? Are you mad?"

"The only mad one is Viserys. When he's king, we can do away with him like I did Aerys. And then Stannis can be king."

"Stannis?" She smirked. "He wouldn't like being king, especially when he finds out just how badly I want to plunge a knife into his heart."

"So then? Joffrey. All hail King Joffrey, First of his Name." He nibbled on her ear and she gasped as he pressed his fingers in. "Let's see if we can make another son, sister."

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: So Daenerys and Rhaenys have made their debuts! It's like Aegon the Conqueror and his two sisters again! Except one is his aunt, and not named Visenya. And seems like Tyrion has found someone new to look after, since he of course has a place in his heart for dwarfs, bastards, cripples and apparently the abused. And tomorrow is the King's Tourney, hm, whose going to win?

**Not sure when I'll be able to post the next chapter as I'm going on a trip Wednesday and won't be back until after February 16, but I'll do my best!

_**Review Response**_: To rikka21, thank you for the review! Very happy that you like it! I figured it seemed suiting for the Starks and Lannisters to remain on bad terms even in my story, will hopefully develop more in later chapters! :)

_**Review Response #2**_: To The Black King, thanks for the question! No, this isn't Jon Snow, this is Jon Connington who is a knight and thus is also Ser Jon or Ser Connington. :)

_**Review Response #3**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks, glad you think so! Speak it out? That's actually a really good idea, thanks! Yes I have all my writing indented, but it seems 's method of uploading or copying stories does not maintain the format. Thanks again :)

_**Review Response #4**_: To chronos the cookie thief, glad you like it! I haven't decided if this'll be an Arya x Aegon show just yet, especially since Arya has stated several times she doesn't want to marry a lord.. but maybe I can change her mind, y'know by writing it in.. Thankfully, the High Lords are only in King's Landing until Aegon's coronation which will be in a few chapters... perhaps though that's when someone will strike? Prince Doran Martell would be somewhat protective of Aegon since he is his nephew, Jon Arryn has a strong sense of justice, but both of them are distanced since they reside in their own realms. Though, after this chapter perhaps a new protector has emerged?

_**Review Response #5**_: To Zireael07, thank you so much for the review! I'm happy to hear that you think so! :D

_**Review Response #6**_: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks for the review! I'm glad I was able to meet my promise of more Arya and Aegon. I haven't quite decided who Aegon's romance will be just yet, if it were Arya, it would be an interesting journey to say the least. :)

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	7. Chapter 6 - The King's Tourney

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 6: The King's Tourney**

"All rise for His Grace, King Aegon Targaryen, the Sixth of his Name. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm!"

Every last knight and legendary warrior in the Seven Kingdoms, Free Cities and beyond was present. Many wanted glory, bloodshed or the heavy gold purse offered as a prize, while everyone else wanted to watch and cheer as most of the city of King's Landing and travelers from far and wide stood in the massive assemblage. Thousands of banners fluttered, though none higher than the black banner of the three-headed red dragon that surrounded the king's place and the tournament grounds. Atop a stone and wooden stage, a dozen feet off the ground was the royal seating. The Kingsguard ever present, who would rotate for their turn in the tourney, stood around the royal seating and the stage vigilantly. Only the Paramounts and their families were permitted to be near the king's seat, all of them present and clustered in their own groups. The Starks and Lannisters were closest to the king, then the Baratheons and Martells, the Tyrells and the Arryns, and the Greyjoys along with the king's council. Beside the wooden throne, carved into the shape of dragon heads and claws were several smaller but sturdy and elegantly carved seats for the royals.

"Gods save His Grace!"

"Long live the Dragon!"

For today, Aegon was held dear by his people as he stepped between the lined Paramount lords, walking up the many steps to his seat, followed by his mother, sister, aunt and uncle. Though many cheered for their king, when Queen Elia took her place beside her son and waved to the crowds, the sound became ear-piercing.

"Motherly Queen!"

"Beloved Elia!"

"Our Queen Guard Us!"

Aegon could not hide his expression, even as he tried to remain diligent in front of his many subjects. Never before had he set foot outside of King's Landing, and though the city was in sight, he felt very anxious. So many people, so much noise, too much to see and remember or even describe. The tents and large pavilions, the melee circles, the grand jousting arena, the noble seats, the mob behind them, the markets, the quarters. It was too much for the boy to handle.

'_No, today I am a man._'

"With the blessings of the gods, I do command the grand tournament to commence!" Aegon called out, his voice ringing over the crowds as they settled down. "Seven guide the worthy, those who would claim my prize of two-hundred thousand gold dragons!"

The mob cheered, and many of the participants began to feel the pressure especially as it became a reality that so much gold was in their reach. The king sat and all took their places, he was smiling wide as he looked out onto the large arena, completely encased along the sides with carved wooden walls that were raised up on high slim pillars so the crowds outside could see. It was built only for the tournament but it was crafted with extreme grandeur to salute the king's Nameday.

On Aegon's left sat his mother and then sister, to his right was his uncle and then Daenerys. The king sat dressed in a lilac purple doublet the was decorated with brilliant amethysts, a gold circlet on his head with a single pearl reflecting the sun's light. The queen wore a yellow and red dress to match Martell's colors, with rubies around her neck and a sunburst tiara on hair that was styled atop her head with red ribbons and small flowers. Princess Rhaenys wore all red, her dress laced and hemmed with pearls and tiny quartz, she wore no jewels save for a golden necklace. Viserys looked bold in a hunter green tunic and vest, he still felt the shame of being detained on Tyrion's 'orders' for the entire night until his nephew let him out. And Princess Daenerys matched her brother though her green was of the summer's grass, light and delicate with teardrop emerald earrings and necklace to match, a pearl hair pin with tiny white roses draping from a silver string was held in her braided silver hair.

"My king!" Ser Loras Tyrell called, mounted on his fine steed and wearing his most fashionable suit of armor, helm under his arm. "I wish you a most happy and beautiful Nameday, your Grace! I shall win this tournament for your honor!"

"Your word are kind, Ser Loras. Best of luck!" Aegon called from on high to the knight, he liked Ser Loras very much. They were the same age, yet the young Tyrell was a knight both in oath and practice, having won two regional tourneys already. For Aegon, Loras represented every aspect of a knight he wished to aspire to as a king even if it were a farfetched dream.

"Your blessing does me more good than luck, my king!" Loras smiled, turning his head as another knight approached.

"A good Nameday to you, my king." Lord Beric Dondarrion of Blackhaven called as he came near, bowing to Aegon. "Let me break this flower for you, your Grace. I will be a true champion for you, my king!"

"Bold words, Lord Dondarrion." Aegon was a bit surprised, he hoped that this wouldn't continue all day. These were men he seldom spoke to, let alone heard their boasts. "I also wish you the best of luck today."

Both knights bowed to their liege before they readied themselves on either side of the jousting arena. To no one surprise, perhaps except to the king's, Ser Loras was victorious. The Flower Knight tossed a rose from his horse mantle to a young maiden in the noble audience as he strutted around. To Aegon, truly he was a knight.

Each round seemed to go by quicker than the one before, the crowds cheering their favorites and booing the fallen. Of course, if the king or more so if the queen applauded a knight's efforts then the mob would soon join in. Ser Gregor Clegane fell to Jaime Lannister, Brynden Tully was unhorsed by Ser Arys Oakheart who was then beaten by Ser Loras. Lord Edmure Tully was also unhorsed, by a foreigner knight who was far too proud of his victory and soon found himself in the dirt from Ser Jon Connington's lance. There was fifty knights, if not more jousting as the day began to come towards its end, Lord Edmure returning to his seat with the Paramounts with a bruised arm and ego.

"You should leave the tournament to those with skill, Lord Tully." Tywin smiled over at the defeated man who only grinned back.

"I should say the same about the duties for the Hand of the King."

As the pair snapped back and forth, Aegon had his eyes on the jousting as two knights approached the king for the second to last round of the day. By the time Balon Greyjoy had put the Lion and Fish's son in place, the first knight, Ser Ser Gerold Dayne greeted Aegon though the boy had his sights on the second knight who did not remove his helm.

"My family wishes you well on your Nameday, your Grace! I hope to win the prize and honor you!" The Dornish knight was stern in his speech, perhaps too proud. Tywin Lannister now also noticed the second knight did not remove his helm, as crude as it was with the rest of his armor.

"My king. May you have everything you desire but one thing on this day." The second knight said, muffled by his full helm, the visor lowered.

"All but one thing Ser?" Aegon asked curiously, a strange thing to wish a king on his Nameday.

"So that you always have something to strive for." The knight replied as Lord Tywin stood from his cushioned bench.

"You would do well to remove your helmet in the presence of His Grace." The Lion said in a threatening tone. Those who disrespected the king disregarded authority, his authority. And he would not have that from a lowly knight.

"Forgive me, my lord, your Grace, but my helm is buckled on. My visor is long since rusted."

"You wear a kettle to a royal game? You shame yourself knight. The likes of you do not belong here."

"All were invited to participate, even foreigners. I have all right to be here"

"Don't talk back to me, you walking tin can. Name yourself!" Tywin snapped.

"Tywin." Aegon looked over at the Lannister who glanced back. "Leave him be. I would see this man joust. You are delaying my tournament."

"...Forgive me your Grace." He hissed through his teeth as he took his seat, not sure what to make of the young king's reaction.

"Ser." Aegon turned his attention to the knight. "Do well."

"As you say my king."

Ser Gerold Dayne was a fine knight, bold and fierce especially on horseback with his lance under arm. Yet the mysterious rider unhorsed the Dornish knight, certainly not with any ease though, in fact even Aegon could see how inexperienced the knight was. And one more joust later, the day was over. The king did not spot the mysterious knight at the great feast held in the massive pavilion that was lined with long tables for all the nobles to sate their hunger and thirsts after a long day. By the time the highborns feasted, the common crowds had dispersed, gone to either rest or eat and drink themselves silly. Tomorrow would be the remainder of the jousting games, then the melee and archery contests. And for the first time as he ate well and drank cautiously, Aegon felt an excitement he had never felt before. '_Is this freedom?_'

* * *

Morning came too slowly for the king, turning and tossing in his bed as he waited for light so that he may rise and watch the jousting once more. He dressed before he was meant to be woken, staring into his mirror with glee. Now he was becoming a man, and in less than a fortnight he would be crowned by the High Septon in the Great Sept of Baelor. He truly would be king. Still looking in the mirror, wearing white vestments dotted with tiny black onyx and gold threads, he found himself feeling unkingly still. Then something flickered in his mind, turning to one of the large chests in the room where laid across the top was the finest cloak ever woven.

"It was my father's, made for his father." Prince Doran Martell had said to the king when he gave it to him a day earlier. "You, my beloved nephew are finally a man."

Slipping the cloak about his shoulders, Aegon found himself having some difficulty fastening the golden chains to keep it in place. He had to go as far as sitting down to do it, but finally the king did manage. The cloak was made of thin golden thread, woven in a pattern that made the material thick, and burdening, much more so with the shroud around the cape and small golden tassels on the hems. As he stood and made his way back to the mirror, he felt heavy. Very heavy in fact. And now when he saw himself, he did see a king. Not in fine clothes, even the beauty of the golden cloak did not made him look as a king would. No, it was the cloak however, the weight of it that pressed down on him gave him such a startling realization he felt he would collapse.

'_I am the king._' He thought but soon muttered it aloud. "I am the king."

What his Dornish uncle gave him was not a lavish cape, but a lesson. Standing there, all of Westeros stood there with him atop his shoulders. Aegon now knew that he had to burden the responsibilities of rulership, he alone and no other. His mother, bless her had to let her son take a step forward. The Lions, curse them would have to swallow their pride. The Spider, the High Septon, the gods even would all have to make way now. For he was the Protector of the Realm, and no more a puppet.

* * *

"You seem pleased brother." Rhaenys said with a smirk as she walked alongside him towards their seating.

"Is that strange?" Aegon asked, glancing to her. He walked slower than usual as the cloak weighed him down, but he walked taller. The crowds, even the nobles stared in absolute awe at the luxury the king wore. Only the Lannisters were unimpressed.

"Actually yes."

"Then I am strange sister, but you are still all the more curious." Aegon said, his sister laughed. It had been a long, long time since he had heard her laughter. Her sincere laughter.

"Do you suppose the mysterious knight will be taken down?" Rhaenys asked with a hum.

"I hear Robb Stark will be jousting his first round today." Daenerys said as they all took their seats. Today Viserys seemed absent, and no one paid much heed to it.

"Will he?" Queen Elia asked, seeming in bright spirits herself today. "My Lord Stark!"

"My queen." Ned Stark broke his conversation with his wife, standing from his bench and turning to face the royals.

"Will your eldest be in the games today?"

"He will, my queen."

"A wolf with a lance." Tywin snickered.

"Mind yourself Lord Lannister." Queen Elia smirked. "Your lion son might find himself with his tail between his legs if the wolf bares its fangs."

Tywin ignored her and the rest of them as they snickered and laughed. He remembered why he enjoyed the queen being bedridden. Arya stood up and glared at Tywin, determined to get back at him even as Sansa tried to tug her down.

"My brother will win the tournament!" She said very matter of factly. Tywin continued to ignore her while Arya did the same to Sansa.

"Arya!" Sansa hissed, having the modesty to blush as she looked back at the king.

"Has your brother ever jousted before, Lady Arya?" Aegon asked, tilting his head to one side.

"No, your Grace." Arya said and laughed. "But he can knock anyone to the ground."

"Arya!" Sansa turned away from the king, no longer willing to show her shame.

"Knocking people to the ground? Oh I can't wait for that." Heads turned as Tyrion Lannister waddled up the steps.

"What are you doing here?" Tywin asked knowing full well Tyrion was excluded from the Paramount seating arrangements, purposely.

"Father, yes, well I came to watch the jousting." He said, smiling at Tywin who stood up as he watched his son walk over and bow to the king.

"Your Grace. My queen, princesses. So many lovely people." The small man said as he took Viserys' seat between Aegon and Daenerys. "Truly an honor, my princess. I hope I'm not intruding on your enjoying the games."

"Not at all Lord Tyrion." Daenerys giggled quietly.

"Tyrion," The Lion growled. "that is Prince Viserys' chair."

"My uncle is not attending today. I invited your son as my guest." Aegon glanced at Tywin, twice now he had spoken back to the Lion, and the feline was not going to have its mane dampened any further.

"He, your Grace, is not part of the Paramount seating nor of your council. He has no place to be in the... illuminating presence of the Dragon." Tywin tried to hold his temper. His own son, his flesh and blood was shaming him and the king was playing him for a fool.

"Oh." Aegon said as if reality had struck him, Tywin smiled. "You are right, my lord."

"Yes, I am sure he can watch just fine from another stand my king." Tywin began to sat down, but his relief wouldn't last.

"Tyrion Lannister, I name you Master of Coin. Henceforth you will mind the purse of Westeros." Aegon spoke and Tywin couldn't believe his ears. One of the men sitting on the council's bench turned his head.

"Your Grace, Lord Richard Stauton is Master of Coin. He-"

"He was of your choosing, not mine." Aegon said as if it ended the matter, and it did. Tywin Lannister stared for a moment before he left in a fuss, afraid of what his tongue might unleash. The proud lion truly was going with its tail between its legs. Or perhaps going to sharpen its claws.

"Lord Stauton. Remain in your place until the games end, then you will step aside for Lord Tyrion." Aegon said, the young man nodding feebly which made the king frown seeing now why this man was Master of Coin. He sighed as he leaned against the carved throne, the dwarf leaning over slightly towards him.

"Well done, your Grace." Tyrion whispered. "And thank you, I'm honored truly but try not to be too bold."

"I'll keep that in mind." Aegon grumbled, feeling as if he had been blind to Tywin's tactics of controlling him and his court. Varys was giggling quietly like a happy girl, Maester Pycelle though looked horrified.

The end of the second part of the initial rounds finally came, Robb Stark premiered and unhorsed one opponent then smashed two lances against another. His thrust was crude in the eyes of the nobles but the common people loved the wolf lord in silver armor, riding a gray steed. Though they more loved this mysterious knight who rode out for the next round, much to the glee of the royals, especially the princesses. Aegon too was fascinated with him, watching him break lances on opponents just as crudely as Robb Stark with an equally strong arm and defense.

Before long it was down to Ser Loras Tyrell, Ser Jaime Lannister, Lord Robb Stark, Ser Jon Connington, Hiron of Pentos and the mysterious knight who was left unnamed, now called on by announcers as the 'Ser Rust' instead, much to the loud disapproval of the crowds. Likely Tywin's doing, Aegon surmised. Ser Rust had put on a good show though for the people and the king, becoming one of the favorites for royal and common alike.

To the displeasure of Aegon, Ser Connington was beaten by Jaime Lannister though the crowd loved to see the golden knight be victorious once again. Hiron of Pentos was taken down by Robb Stark while Ser Rust knocked Ser Loras off his flowery mantled horse. Though the mysterious knight had almost lost, nearly falling off his horse first before the Flower Knight hit the ground, barely managing to stay on as victory was sounded. The crowd was becoming even more enthusiastic, the nobles tensing up along with the royals. Aegon was literally at the edge of his seat as Jaime Lannister faced Ser Rust. It was over very quickly, with the knight on his back and the Kingslayer grinning wide. What was surprising though, was that the knight's helm had flown clean off Apparently not buckled at all.. The crowd gasped and Aegon stood quickly to see who it was as he stumbled to his feet, he didn't recognize him.

"Jon!" Ned Stark shouted as he jumped up, as did his wife who looked rather angry.

"The wolf has balls the size of boulders!" Balon Greyjoy laughed. Lord Stannis and Cersei were less than amused.

"Seize him!" Tywin called, Aegon couldn't see him but that sour tone was unmistakeable.

"Well, well this is interesting." Tyrion muttered, slipping from his seat. Guards ran into the area as the crowd boo'ed them, grabbing Jon Snow and dragging him to the king's place as Tywin Lannister returned.

"Bastards have no place in royal tournaments!" He barked. Jon Snow didn't look up, staring down as Jaime Lannister came over, still with his grin. Ser Loras not far behind, looking red and furious.

"My king-" Ned began but soon Ser Loras' shriek came like a torrent.

"He is no knight! His victories are false and deceit! There is no place for a lowlife to come in and play noble games! I am the winner from the round! I knew it and now there is proof! My king I will not stand here and be humiliated for being brutalized by a bastard child!"

"I agree." Tywin said, annoyed with Loras' whining but he used it to his advantage. "Your Grace, this Jon Snow should be thrown out with his victories in the final rounds disqualified. Might I also suggest throwing him in a black cell to teach him a lesson?"

"A black cell? What madness to do that to a lad so young!" Ned Stark shouted.

"My Lord Hand, black cells are for the most intolerable of criminals and enemies of the Iron Throne." Varys said softly as he stood up.

"Quiet Spider. And you Lord Stark, stop cowering in place of your demonspawn and let justice come to pass!" Tywin argued as he looked at the boy. "Speak you dog. Beg for the king's pity."

"I regret not a thing." Jon muttered, eyes still lowered.

"Ha! Spineless thing." Tywin looked at Aegon with a cruel smile before nodding to the guards. "Throw him in a black cell."

"I gave no such command." The guards stopped as Aegon spoke.

"Your Grace, this is a dire matter." Tywin said thinking it would end the matter, it didn't. "Take him away."

"You overstep yourself Lord Lannister." The king approached the steps, glancing at Ned Stark and then to Tywin.

"In all due respect, your Grace..." Tywin said, his patience cracking. "this is a complicated matter. As your Hand, it is my duty to speak with your voice to deal with the issue."

"I am here and I have my own voice."

"Your Grace, it's just-"

"And I will speak my own judgments."

"You know nothing." Tywin snapped, even Tyrion looked surprised. "You are a child and this is no game. Guard, take the bastard. Now!"

Only Lord Greyjoy still had a grin on his face, the rest of the Paramounts were in utter shock. Jaime seemed to step slightly away from his father, not sure what was to come. All around the arena and outside, all looked and watched the scene unfold. The Lion bid the Dragon, as he done for years, yet this time the Dragon did not listen. As the guards began again to drag Jon Snow away, Aegon's voice raised above Ned Stark's objections and echoed throughout the arena and beyond.

"Do I command the royal guard or do you Lannister?" The Dragon roared, the Lion fixed in shock and perhaps fear as he stared up. The Stag watched deviously, the Wolf and Trout anxious while the Krakon grinned, Rose idled, Falcon worried, and the Red Sun shone proudly.

"It is I who command!" Aegon shouted. "And you, who obey."

"Your Grace!"

"Silence! Silence Lannister or lose your tongue!" For a moment, it seemed as if Aerys was standing before him. Tywin now had real reason to worry. "You, Tywin Lannister are removed from your office as Hand to the King. You are banished from my Nameday games. You will not step into my presence for a week's time. And you will dress in a beggarly fashion, to learn some modesty."

Where the shadow of Aerys had stood now was Rhaegar, and that only infuriated Tywin more. Nobles were baffled, Tyrion was sure his father would be skinned alive or worse. Greyjoy was still amusing himself as he watched, while Ned Stark felt some relief. The Lion clenched his fists, he wanted to say more but his honor was now being dragged through the mud, and his legacy was now at risk. He would not stand for it, so he decided to allow the child-king this victory and take a new approach.

"Guard, escort Lord Lannister to the Red Keep. Jon Snow!" Aegon snapped, Ned's relief was quick to fade as Tywin was walked out of the arena, still managing to look dignified despite all that had occurred. "Come before your king. I would speak with you."

"...My king." Jon acknowledged as Aegon went to sit on his throne, mother looking just as stunned as his sisters. Snow stepped between the Paramounts, his father approaching with him as they bowed before Aegon.

"You have upset this day, Jon Snow." The king said calmly, leaning back.

"I hadn't meant to. The tournament was for all to enter." Jon replied as he looked at Aegon.

"And he did no wrong by doing so, your Grace." Ned said backing him.

"Perhaps so, but his entrance or actions is not what I refer to." Aegon shrugged slightly.

"Leave Jon alone!" Arya called out.

"Arya! Not now." Ned spoke sternly as he glanced back at his daughter.

"But Jon won fair and squarely!"

"He did no such thing! He is a lowlife my king!" Ser Loras cried as he stepped up, stopping as he saw Aegon's anger return.

"You are a knight. Where is your honor to admit defeat to a better? Whether by chance or skill, this Jon Snow was victorious. You Ser Loras, out of my sight." Aegon no longer saw the knight he admired, only a brat in armor who cowered and backed away from the stage.

"Be gentle." Tyrion spoke up, the king glancing down at him. "He has never tasted defeat like this. It's bitter. Like spoiled wine."

"Perhaps." Aegon sighed softly as he looked at Jon. "You did win fair. Tyrion, what would suggest I do?"

"Me? I haven't an idea, your Grace. Asking a dwarf what to do with a bastard. The gods are too funny." Tyrion grinned. "You have a voice, you said so yourself. You must pass your own judgment, speak them as you promised you would."

"And I shall, but I ask your advice."

"Your Grace, I have no ill against Lord Tyrion, but I think the lions have whispered enough in your ear." Ned spoke plainly, too much so as Aegon frowned at him.

"You dare?"

"You are now of age, my king. You need to stand on your own." Ned looked Aegon in the eyes as he spoke. Prince Doran stood with his cane, Lady Arianne helping him as they approached.

"He speaks the truth, nephew." Doran Martell smiled at the king. "What weighs on your shoulders?"

"...Westeros." Aegon fingered his golden cloak as he looked at his uncle who nodded to him. The king sighed again as he looked down to Tyrion.

"Before you ask, I can't give you advice. I'm just the Master of Coin."

"Then I name you Hand of the King instead, and you will name a Master of Coin." Aegon said much to the shock of the dwarf and the Paramounts.

"My dear, you're being rash." The Queen rested her hand on her son's arm.

"No mother, I'm speaking for myself now. My decisions will have consequences, and I will deal with them. Jon Snow."

"Your Grace?"

"I give you a choice. The White, the Black or a cell." Aegon folded his arms as he smiled. "You will take the role of squire to one of my Kingsguard and prove yourself man enough to join their ranks, if you do not then the Wall will greet you. Or instead, I will take Tywin Lannister's advice and have you thrown into a black cell for a night to wash away this insult of disrupting my games."

"I would be one of your seven?" Jon asked, unsure. "Why?

"Jon." Ned hushed him. "Your Grace, while it's an honor, a great one, I am against the idea of my son joining the White or the Black, let alone be put in a black cell."

"Lord Stark. Please, this is what I've wanted." Jon said as he looked at his father who grimaced. "To join the White and protect the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms or to mount the wall and protect the Seven Kingdoms and be a ranger. I couldn't ask for anything more."

"Then, the choice is yours." Ned sighed as he stepped back.

"I accept, your Grace. Train me to guard you or guard your kingdoms. I accept wholeheartedly."

"Good." Aegon nodded. "Sit with your father then. I will not have my games disrupted any further."

"As you command my king." Jon Snow said with a grin.

The crowd was getting restless from the delay but as the announcer declared Ser Rust a finalist, successful against Ser Loras, the cheers returned. Now only Jaime Lannister and Robb Stark remained, and ultimately Jaime Lannister won the prize after unhorsing Robb Stark just as he done to his half-brother. The lion was crowned victorious though two wolves had come close behind him, and the other prizes were hardly something to scoff about. So came the end of the second day, and the end of the jousting games. The feast was just as grand as the night before, perhaps more so as there was a celebration for Jaime Lannister both among the nobles and peasantry alike over his winning. The king spent the evening speaking with Jon Snow and Robb Stark along with his sisters, it was a strange thing for him to be around others his age and to get along with them. This truly was freedom.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: So ends the jousting but the melee and archery is still to come! I would have put them in this chapter but it would have been too long a chapter. So Jon Snow has his foot in the door, so does Robb too, and Arya. Starks aren't so bad as Aegon thought, and the lions are loosing grip. Except for Tyrion who got promoted twice in a day. Is Aegon shaping up to be king, or is this a short-lived progression? Thankfully I got this chapter done whilst on my trip! I hope I can get another one done before I return home!

_**Review Response**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks for the review and comments! Well Arya and Aegon had their rematch, that's left to the imagination. What comes after was in this chapter partially, but there is still more to come. So far I'm just laying foundations. Even if Stannis renounced any claims (which he may not have in this AU), I feel it's in his self-righteous character to want to be on the throne most especially if Cersei were his wife and pushing him along. Jaime, again in my opinion would be cruel enough to plot against Aegon, also again with Cersei pushing him. My feeling is that if it's plausible that Tywin Lannister wouldn't sack King's Landing, it's plausible Jaime Lannister would take a spiteful stance. We know he becomes murderous when pushed into a corner, but that makes me wonder what he'd be like if left to his own devices. Also he shoved Bran out of a window for love, so why not try to kill someone else if his love wants something? I agree I've stretched his character some, but my objective is to villain-ize the Lannisters as a whole with the exception of Tyrion. And don't worry about writing so much, it's welcomed! Helps me think if I'm happy with my decisions, and also corrects me when needed! So thank you very much :)

_**Review Response #2**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the review! I'm glad you think so, it seemed like Tyrion's character to become a protector of sorts. Aegon does have some shell-breaking to do and needs to deal with his anger and depression issues, but that's in the plans! As for karma, well Lannisters always pay their debts, especially morals ones ;) Ned Stark has some iffy feelings towards the Targaryens, even if it's not towards Aegon, so that's up in the air if he'll befriend the king! Aegon is actually 15... er, now 16 after this chapter. :D

_**Review Response #3**_: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks for the review, I'm glad you enjoyed it! Well I'm doing my best not to plan out his romance, instead just try to let it unfold, but I want to keep it simple and restrain it to the Paramount daughters so that's a limited spectrum for whose actually suitable. So who knows, maybe it will be Arya... maybe Sansa, or Margaery, maybe his cousin Arianne. Or somehow Asha. Who could say! Ehh...probably not Asha.

_**Review Response #4**_: To Beda, thank you for the review! I'm so glad you like the story that much :) And don't worry, plans for Viserys are out there somewhere, waiting to become reality.

_**Review Response #5**_: To LadyKatherine29, thanks for the review! Happy to hear that you like it! I think Tyrion is perhaps the only loved Lannister, the other lions are either hated or tolerated, at least for me. A girl? Stannis'? Now that's an idea that would be scandal worthy, thank you! Stannis is mainly an off-scene character, at least for now, maybe more will come of him later. Thank you for the thought-out comment, I appreciate it! :)

_**Review Response**_**_#6_**: To Zireael07, thanks for the review! Tyrion is awesome, of course, and the other Lannisters are no surprise to be up to no good! Will have more of that soon!

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	8. Chapter 7 - Profane Arrow

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 7: Profane Arrow**

The day was long, the jousting arena was disassembled and in its place the melee circles and archery lanes were being built. King's Landing was in a great excitement, a constant celebration among the people with inns and taverns full beyond bursting, the streets littered with peoples both drunks and merchants selling their wares. The port was full of ships coming and departing with passengers and endless amounts of cargo to maintain the city's feasting. And laborers were busy getting the rest of the tournament ready for the morrow, when the king would sit to watch sword and bow compete for his favor and prize just as the lance had.

"I'm not sure I can ever get used to the Red Keep." Jon Snow said, walking behind Aegon who was accompanied by three of his Kingsguard, one of which was Jon's mentor, Ser Jon Connington. The two Jons were now inseparable on and off duty just as much as Aegon was with the bastard Stark.

"I'm still not used to it." Aegon smirked as he glanced back at the squire.

"I'll do my best for both of us then your Grace."

"A lost Kingsguard. That'll be a sight." Ser Connington chuckled. The small council was dismissed for the day while the Lord Hand was occupied with getting used to his new position. That left the king free to do as he pleased for the entire day.

"Your Grace, I was..." Snow began in a mumble but soon quieted.

"What is it?" Aegon asked, keeping his eyes forward as they walked.

"I shouldn't have spoken, I don't want to say anything out of place your Grace, but..."

"What's on your mind Snow?" Aegon glanced at Jon who furrowed his brows.

"Why did you make me a squire? I'm grateful but I'm a bastard."

"A bastard can be a knight if the king deems it." Ser Connington answered looking at Jon, he had been happy to squire the boy but he was growing tired of the bastard's negative attitude.

"A king can do what he wants." Aegon's answer made Jon quiet, and the silence weighed heavy on them both. "Your sister spoke highly of you."

"Sister? Arya?" Jon asked unable to hide his surprise. He had heard the king sparred with Arya routinely now, with Syrio Forel minding them but he didn't know they made much conversation. Much to his dissatisfaction, Aegon only nodded.

"And I feel something when I see you." The king admitted after another moment of silence.

"Feel something?" Jon asked, did he think he was stupid? A Targaryen master feeling something for a low-born wolf?

"Something about you tugs at me, attracts me to you." Aegon gave the smallest of shrugs. "I want you by my side Jon Snow."

"I didn't know you enjoyed the company of men, your Grace." It was Jon's turn to grin.

"Snow!" Ser Connington snapped just as Aegon let out a meek sound, stumbling in surprise as he tripped. The ground was coming quick, and the all the Kingsguard had their eyes on Jon so as they reached for their king, it was Jon Snow who caught him, falling with the king. The pair tumbled, Jon Connington lifted the king up while another knight heaved up Snow.

"I'm... sorry your Grace. I forgot my place." Jon glanced down, for a moment he felt as if he were in Winterfell, but this was not home. Not in the slightest. The Kingsguard were waiting for Aegon to roar at him as he had been making a habit of doing since Tywin Lannister had been shamed.

"And next you're going to say I sounded like a girl." Aegon said lowly, Jon looked up to see the king's face. It was stern but not hard, in fact it almost looked like he was forcing himself which made Jon Snow grin.

"Ugh." Aegon grunted as he punched Jon in the arm before he kept walking, the squire still grinning.

Jon looked out between the columns that held up great arches, opening up to the city view. It was only starting to dawn on him, that he may never see Winterfell ever again. He would never spar with Robb nor shoot a bow with Bran or Theon. His lordly father would not be with him and the cold glare of Lady Stark would no longer stalk him. Yet he felt sad to think of leaving the place he knew as home. To suddenly serve the king. Or if he proved unworthy, to serve the realm on the Wall.

Looking discreetly up at the Kingsguard, Snow found himself not much shorter than the knights compared to the king who barely went up to his chin. It was strange, to have entered the tournament in guise only to be brought before this boy turning man, made to swear an oath to the White Sword. Why had he entered in the first place? Admittedly he wanted to joust Robb, but there was something more to it and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Perhaps the gods were toying with him, or maybe this was really a blessing.

"Mother?" The entourage entered the solarium, the queen-regent sitting near the terrace, the sunlight covering her. Her smile was more beautiful than she was as she closed the book to see her son walking towards her. Weakness had struck her again after last night's feast, unable to even raise herself from her seat.

"My dearest. This is a surprise. A pleasant one."

"You seem well since last eve." He said, taking her hand and holding it in his. The Kingsguard stood in a row on the far side of the room, Jon Snow at the end. The queen glanced at him, nodding to him.

"I see you brought Ser Rust."

"Jon Snow, mother. He goes where Ser Connington goes. And the Kingsguard remain in my presence."

"Of course." Queen Elia looked to the large Jon, the knight looked more grim than usual. "I hope it is not too tasking for you Ser to take a squire. Most unusual I assure you, but my son will do as he will."

"Mother!"

"It is an honor to obey His Grace, my queen." Ser Jon bowed slightly.

"I will strive to be a good pupil." Jon Snow answered after, Elia quirking a brow at him.

"I'm sure you will Ser Rust." She looked to her son now and then gestured to the seat next to her. "Have you seen your sister?"

"Rhaenys will do as she pleases." Aegon shrugged as he sat down, his reply made the queen sigh.

"I do wish that sweet girl would be reasonable. At least you outgrew sneaking off, she thrives on it."

'_You forced me to outgrow it by keeping me here._'

"I could send Ser Barristan to fetch her wherever she's hiding." Aegon suggested but Elia frowned at him.

"My dear, your Kingsguard are not your servants. They are your sword, your shield, your armor. Don't ever forget that." He was taken aback by her tone, Elia seemed harsher than normal.

"I understand mother." Was all Aegon could manage.

"Jon Snow." Elia spoke out, gesturing to her. "Come here please."

"My queen." He said as he approached her and knelt before her.

"I don't like my son's Kingsguard being tasked to train a youth. Now I've no witness to your skills outside the jousting arena, but I will not have even the most skilled burden those who protect the king. So forgive me when I say that I would not be unhappy to see you take the Black instead of the White."

"Mother..." Aegon grimaced at her.

"As you say your Grace." Jon answered, looking up at her as he remained knelt to be near eye-level with her. "Though may I say that if your son... if the king is ever threatened, I would use my own flesh to shield him."

"Bold words. But words are easily broken by the sword. Please remember that." Elia leaned into her seat.

"Then please be at ease knowing I will take the Black the moment I know-"

"Please, dear boy. No more." She smiled tiredly before looking at Aegon, patting his hand. "Viserys is looking for you. As is Lord Stark, he's been waiting in the Great Hall since breaking fast."

"Lord Stark?"

"Yes my dear." The queen smiled as she opened her book and returned to her reading when Aegon stood up, kissing the top of her head.

* * *

Viserys was beating a wooden dummy in the training yard with an ornate sword, a dragon-head pummel with wings and tail for the hilt, jewels across them. Each slash left a deep scar in the wood, chips of it flying off with the strikes of the blade. As Aegon and his guard left the dark of the Red Keep, the king shielded his eyes from the bright sun as they adjusted. Walking towards his princely uncle, Aegon watched servants change the ruined dummy for a fresh one.

"Uncle." Aegon said softly, Viserys turned quick with the sword pointed towards him. "...You wanted to see me?"

"Yes..." Viserys grinned madly, he seemed in a very good mood today as he sheathed his sword. "I have a favor to ask dear nephew." He gestured for the small party to follow him.

Outside the small training armory, two men were assembling a grand suit of armor. Silver and gold plated with the sides of the torso lined with a thousand rubies. Both arms had gold chain and crystals along the plates as did the leggings. The helm was a great dragon head, far too big for any normal person without looking greatly disproportional. Such a suit was magnificent, if not overdone. It was nearly as fine as the suit that the Tyrells had given Aegon for his Nameday present, though the king thought that Viserys' suit was gaudy.

"Beautiful." Aegon said, glancing at his uncle who laughed.

"Isn't it?" He said, looking back at the Kingsguard. "Isn't it?"

"Will you enter the melee uncle?"

"Of course! A dragon has to spread its wings... and claws, and smite down all those that would stand against him." Viserys laughed again, colder and crueler this time.

"I will cheer for you." Aegon said, Viserys stopped laughing and looked at him, anger in his eyes.

"Of course you will." His smile wasn't sincere, a blind man could see it.

"Then... what favor did you want to ask?"

"Ah well. The smith is being ridiculous and refuses to allow even a royal credit, he's demanding the eighty thousand dragons upfront before he'll let me have the armor."

"But... the armor is here already uncle."

"Do you think I'm blind?! I told the damned smith you would send the gold dragons to him this afternoon." Viserys snapped.

"What?... But eighty thousand? For armor?"

"For _my_ armor nephew! Don't worry. I'll pay you back once I win the melee."

"Yes uncle... but..."

"But? But? But, but, but. You sound like an old crone." He was getting mad again.

"It is a big expense, my prince." Ser Connington said as he looked at Viserys who glared back at him.

"Stay out of this Kingsguard." He spat before looking to his nephew. "So what is it? What excuse do you have to deny me this? You owe me for making me sit in a cell! You owe me nephew!"

"He owes you nothing." Jon Snow spoke up, Viserys looked between the Kingsguard to see who dared, eyes falling on the squire.

"Oh? Oh what was that? What was that? I thought I told the Kingsguard to be quiet."

"I'm not Kingsguard. I'm a bastard made squire."

"Enough Jon." Ser Connington looked down at him.

"A bastard? Speaking to me? Do you know who I am?" Viserys hissed.

"Prince Viserys Targaryen." Snow answered, pulling away from Ser Connington as the knight gripped his shoulder.

"And you think you can just speak to the Dragon?!"

"You're not the Dragon, the king is."

"You! You dare?! Are you the maiden's knight in shining armor now?"

"Enough uncle."

"Enough? WHAT did you say to me whelp?"

"I won't say it again."

"No you won't, or I'll..." Viserys hissed but bit his tongue as he looked at the Kingsguard.

"You won't do anything." Aegon frowned at him.

"What? Who do you think you're speaking to?!"

"Restrain him." Aegon nodded to the Kingsguard, Ser Jon and another knight grabbed Viserys by the arms as the king drew a dagger and held it to his uncle's chin.

"W-wait wait! I'm the Dragon! Let go!" Viserys quieted as the steel touched his flesh, ceasing his struggle.

"_I_ am the Dragon. You would do well to remember that. This armor will be returned unless you pay for it yourself. You will never raise your voice in my presence again. Never will you raise hand or fist to myself, your sister or mine. And you will live a long life of regret should you cross me again, for the Wall will greet you." Aegon growled at him, low but clear. Viserys was pale with fright even as the dagger returned to its sheath. As the Kingsguard released the king's uncle, he fell to the ground, gripping his throat as Aegon walked off with his escort behind him.

"Snow." Aegon said once the cool inside of the Red Keep welcomed them.

"Your Grace?"

"Mind how you speak."

"As you command my king." Jon answered, quite proud of himself. Just as Ser Jon was proud of Aegon.

* * *

The Great Hall should have been silent today, but Eddard Stark and his company waited. Lady Stark was staring at the giant dragon skulls, frightened but unable to look away as Sansa stood next to her on one side with Rickon holding her hand on the other. Robb, Brandon and Arya stood with their father who spoke of the histories of the dragons as they waited. Aegon entered from a side entrance, out of sight and he listened curiously before he descended down into the main part of the hall.

"Lord Stark." The Starks and their men turned to the king as he spoke, gathering in place as Aegon made his way up the steps to the Iron Throne.

"My king." All muttered in greeting as he sat, bowing their heads while the Kingsguard took their places as they were joined by two more. Only Ser Barristan and Jaime Lannister were missing from the seven White Swords, though Jon Snow took one of their places around the king naturally.

"What is it I can do for you?" Aegon asked, leaning back to feel the iron swords against him lightly.

"Your Grace, I never had chance to present your Nameday gift to you. Admittedly I did not know what to give, seeing as you have all you could desire already." Ned stepped forward, Robb following him as he held a large bundle in his arms.

"I am happy to accept it. What is it?" Aegon wasn't sure how impressed he was, it was a belated gift after all, by two days.

"Wolves!" Arya laughed softly.

"Wolves?" The king sat up straight, curious now as Robb unfolded the bundle. "You brought me a wolf?"

"Not exactly, my king." Lady Stark spoke up as her husband pulled out a great cloak, hooded and collared, made of thick fur that seemed doubled over itself. The collar, hood and lining of the cloak was very fine fur while the cape was dense, matted threads that were spindled from wolf fur. Winter might come, but it would not sap heat from such a beastly attire.

"A cloak." Aegon smiled, or tried to. Now he was sure he was not impressed.

"It may not be as fine as the golden Martell cape, but I assure you this is a treasure, your Grace." Ned held the heavy fur in both arms to show the king, who was now frowning.

"A treasure? I own furs from across Westeros and beyond."

"Every wolf woven into it is of the North, every thread and iron clasp created just for it." Robb said though he too now frowned, burrowing his brows at the ingratitude.

"It's true. Smith and spinster prepared every material while my best hunted the wolves. I chose each myself." Lord Stark added.

"Thank you, my Lord Stark but..."

"Mother and I spent three months sewing it! With only some help!" Sansa smiled at Aegon, curtsying as his eyes fell upon her. She blushed and glanced down slightly as she folded her hands over her lap. "It would so please me if it pleased you, your Grace."

"I'm unsure, my lady, were I to be honest." Aegon sighed softly. "It's a strange gift, for such an important occasion."

"Don't you like it Aegon, uh, your Grace?" Arya asked, she looked rather hurt while her sister was still full of bliss. Aegon looked to his sparring partner, her face made something inside him ache.

"Uhm... if it's not to your Grace's liking..." Ned felt awkward, but stopped as Aegon stood and began to descend the steps.

"My lord." The king began as he stood before Ned and Robb. "I have been in a house of red stone surrounded by gold, jewels, crowns and more. Forgive me for not knowing the truest of treasures, hard work and thoughtfulness."

"Good words, my king." Ned smiled at the young man.

"My lord, I wonder if I might speak with you, in private." Aegon said as a servant took the cloak, nearly falling over from the weight of it.

"Wonder? I am at your command your Grace." The Wolf was surprised at the king's gentle nature today, a change from his ill mood seconds ago.

"Walk with me then Lord Stark." Aegon nodded to Ser Connington who bowed slightly, staying on guard till needed as the two left the Great Hall and entered the small chamber on the side of the Iron Throne used for the small council.

"I never properly thanked you for coming for my Nameday, and my upcoming coronation. And certainly, I should thank you for the gift." Aegon looked up at Ned, small compared to the large warrior lord.

"You are a busy young man, your Grace." Lord Stark said and that was it, Aegon couldn't much argue with him.

"I hope Lord Tyrion will better help me settle into my throne than his father."

"My feelings towards the Lannisters is biased. I have heard that Lord Tyrion is a great scholar though, I am sure he will serve you well. And I pray that he will, loyally.

"Are you disappointed in me, Lord Stark?" The king asked suddenly.

"Disappointed?" Ned wasn't sure what he could say to that, to his king. "Not anymore."

"Not anymore?"

"I thought you were becoming like your grandfather in all honesty, but lately you've shown that you are your father. It puts my mind at ease."

"I have a vicious temper and can be rash at times. Your father and brother were murdered by my grandfather, I can understand your wariness of me."

"Sire." Ned stopped, reaching for his sword, drawing it. Ice glimmered in the soft light coming into the room. Aegon was at first disturbed by the bared Stark sword but soon was intrigued by it. "This blade was my father's, meant to be my brother's but now is mine."

"Valyrian steel..."

"Yes, this is Ice, as cold and pale as the North, sharper than any wolf fang." Ned held the sword across his hands.

"It's beautiful."

"It is yours, if you desire it."

"What?" Aegon looked up at the man. "It's the Stark blade, it's been in your family for hundreds of years. Why offer it to a Targaryen? The blood that slew yours."

"Do you want the sword, your Grace? A fine Valyrian blade would put fear in your enemies."

"...No." Aegon glanced away, Lord Stark laughed softly as he sheathed Ice.

"Then you are not your grandfather, and you do not need to burden his sins."

"Are you testing me Stark?!" Aegon snapped, looking to the Wolf. "...Sorry. I don't know what comes over me."

"My king, you are a Targaryen, fiery blood is your nature. Just as icy blood is mine." Ned put his hand on Aegon's shoulder, chucking a bit.

"You offer Ice, knowing I would not to dishonor you by taking it?" The king looked up and sighed. "Thank you, Lord Stark. I'll not abuse your trust."

"I know you won't, your Grace."

* * *

"Prince Viserys wins again!" The announcer called, crowds cheering as the Targaryen prince waved to them, heaving up his ornate sword. He wore his overly grand armor, somehow managing to pay for it... or steal it. Viserys had won three rounds now but he was becoming visibly tired as he left the melee circle.

"Not a bad day so far." Tyrion said as he looked around. "It's too bad my brother isn't joining the melee, would be nice to have the Lannisters win two events."

"I think your family has enough money, Lord Tyrion." Daenerys said, smiling at the short man who laughed.

"That we do my princess. That we do. It's a shame though that the queen and Princess Rhaenys couldn't be here today. I so like being around the lovely royals, everyone is so nice."

"Only as kind as you are my lord." Daenerys giggled.

"Oh a compliment? My thanks, princess."

"The winner! Ser Urion Dorgar!"

"Oh I missed it... Hm, Ser Urion Dorgar?" Tyrion hmm'ed. "I've never heard of the man."

"Nor have I." Aegon said, looking to the waving knight. He was small framed with tight-fitting silver armor etched with floral designs, a full helm decorated with feathers atop it. It must have been thin plates, for the knight moved quick and wasn't slowed at all by his armor. "He might be a friend of Ser Loras."

"Doubt it. The Tyrells don't keep many friends." Tyrion said, whispering as he eyed Lord Mace Tyrell in the corner of his eye to be sure the Paramount did not hear him.

"My Lords, who commands the Dorgar family?" Aegon asked, only a few of the Paramounts glancing back at their king. Balon Greyjoy did not, to no one's surprise. And Tywin Lannister was not here to answer.

"Lord Baratheon?" The king asked, looking at the balding Stag.

"No my king." Stannis said bluntly, turning away from him. Cersei was not present today, there was a rumor around the Red Keep that she had severe morning sickness.

"Strange. Perhaps he's from abroad."

"A foreign knight. That's not dangerous." Tyrion shook his head as Ser Dorgar left the circle. "And Ser Rust is still here with us, so we know it's not him."

"I could have a twin." Jon Snow said with a slight smirk, standing beside the king.

"I don't think the gods are so spiteful of me." Aegon looked up at the squire who laughed quietly.

"The winner! Ser Oberyn Martell!"

"Oh damn I missed it again." Tyrion sighed. "It's bad enough I can only see them from the waist up from here, let alone I blink and someone is already on the ground."

"Trust me Lord Tyrion, many more will hit the ground before the day is done." Aegon turned his attention to the melee circle where his uncle Oberyn was exiting without even waving to the crowds.

The matches went on through the morning and by midday the finals had arrived. Ser Loras had been put down by a foreign fighter, Ser Oberyn yielded to the Targaryen prince as impossible as it seemed to be, leaving only Viserys and Ser Dorgar remaining. Aegon felt no need to cheer for his cruel uncle, instead was anxious to see how Ser Dorgar would fare against a royal that all dared not harm. It put the king at ill-ease to think that Viserys was his heir, and that somehow made him important. So many years those eyes watched Aegon jealously, and for all that time Aegon was blind in return. Now all he saw was a coward and villain, hoping dearly that Ser Dorgar would knock him to the dust.

"Fight!"

Viserys swung like a brute, both hands on his longsword to make up for the stamina he was lacking. Ser Dorgar dodged, and again, and again. Each strike missed the slender knight who only had to block with his own sword twice, it seemed almost like an unfair fight. And Viserys was getting visibly angry at not having heard his opponent yield to him by now. Soon enough, it was over. Not before Ser Dorgar tripped Viserys, disarmed him three times, kicked him down and finally disarmed him a fourth time, sending his ornate sword out of the ring and underneath one of the noble benches.

"Bastard!" The Targaryen snapped.

"Winner! Victorious Ser Urion of House Dorgar!"

"Scoundrel! Cheat!" Viserys swore under his breath as he stumbled to his feet, removing his helm only to find a sword pointed at his face with Ser Dorgar silently shaking his head.

"Approach the king, claim your prize Ser Dorgar!" The announcer called, the knight walking by Viserys, the announcer and the king's stage. "Ser Dorgar!... Ser Dorgar! Present yourself!"

Even before Aegon could get to his feet, Urion Dorgar sprinted under a barrier and slipped through the crowds with such speed that many jumped to give him way.

"Guard! Guard!" The announcer shouted.

"What is it with people not showing their faces to me?" Aegon grunted, looking to Jon Snow who shrugged.

"You have a temper, your Grace." Snow sighed out.

"Seven Hells." The king sat back down as he watched the royal guard make a futile attempt to catch Ser Urion Dorgar. Aegon pulled on his golden cloak, adjusting it to get comfortable before he rubbed his face. He was starting to feel ill, perhaps it was the heat.

"Are you alright, your Grace?" Tyrion asked, clearly seeing the king's sudden ailment.

"Yes." Aegon looked forward to the circles, and beyond to the archery lanes. "Let the final competition begin!"

The large circular melee circle, made up on large wooden barriers was quickly moved by many servants, leaving an open field between the king's stage, between the noble benches all the way down to where targets had been set up. The crowds were cheering, already forgetting Ser Dorgar and his stunt as archers entered into the field, waving. Only a few were favorite enough to be called by name.

"I wonder who will claim victory in this game. Another mystery man perhaps?" Daenerys was excited. She watched a dozen archers line up, taking aim to ready for the signal.

"Hopefully not." Aegon grumbled. "I'm tired of masks."

"Expect a Greyjoy to win this, your Grace." Balon Greyjoy said over his shoulder. "My sons are the best archers in all of Westeros, they could hit an apple atop of a mountain! From a ship!"

"We would all love to see that, Lord Greyjoy." Tyrion said as the signal came, still looking at Aegon. His eyes widen in horror, the king crying out as a white plumed arrow stuck out from his chest, piercing through him and pinning Aegon to the carved throne. He gripped the arrow, screaming in pain as blood flowed down his front and back, staining the golden cloak.

"Your Grace!" Tyrion shouted.

"Aegon! Aegon!" Daenerys and Arya shrieked.

"The king!"

"Your Grace!"

The screams and cries echoed throughout the crowd, soon many joined in as it was realized that the king bled, and bled a great deal. His cloak now a bright crimson, and his world began to sway hard from one side to the next. Jon Snow, Ser Connington, Ned Stark, all of them were doubles and then triples to his eyes. Soon all went black.

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_**Author's Note**_: Oh no the king is dead!... Or is he? Is it even legal to kill off a character for which a fanfic is named after? I'm worried I may have rushed through the scenes but I didn't want to linger too long and end up putting in filler. I try very, very hard to make everything mentioned to be of some importance. As Beda pointed out with the Starks not yet giving Aegon his gift yet, it made little sense to do so until the tournament when Aegon would proudly wear and show off his gold cloak. I may actually forget sometimes details in my own work, but I'll do my best to make it all add up! Thank you for continuing to read this far, the story is just beginning! I have some twists and turns planned out, you may get whiplash! Remember to review, favorite, follow and obsess over or Cersei will... uh well I guess she's semi-out-of-order so um... so do so or else uh... Tyrion will... fall over. Yeah. Also! I'm still away from home so my chapters are still going to come slow, hopefully by next week I can get back into it fully.

_**Review Response**_: To Master of the RedSand, Tywin is a complicated character and perhaps I didn't do him justice he does smile, snicker and make jokes. He's also rash when comfortable, such as when Aerys II refused to allow Cersei to wed into the Targaryen dynasty, Tywin stepped down as Hand to the King in anger. So what he did in the last chapter I believe is very plausible of his character, having once again become comfortable in his position. Facial expression is a good suggestion, thank you! And of course, it'd be absolutely no fun if Aegon could do as he pleased, he did say he would face the consequences of his actions, but what will they be? Open rebellion? I doubt it, Stannis has no direct reason to go after Aegon just yet. And the Lions alone won't do anything. So for now the realm is safe I think! The chapter was done quickly while away from home, so forgive the rushness ;)

_**Review Response #2**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the review! Yeah Jon is an impulsive character, and I figured this was a perfect way to debut him fully. I haven't decided who he'll squire to, maybe Jaime Lannister... er, or maybe not. That'd be mean. Aegon has been 'trained' in swordsplay but has an interest in it that comes and goes, not being very good at it he gets discouraged. That's likely to change over the course of the story. Funny you mention Oberyn! Queen Elia made her second showing, but having Aegon's other uncle come in just yet may be too soon, but he'll be around soon enough! Doran needs more limelight, time to set up his pieces for the game. Oberyn would just likely knock someone out. And Aegon may have stepped up, but is that really such a good thing considering how far he went? And no, no no no, Daenerys is not married to Viserys since Rhaegar became king and did not allow inter-family marriages for his children and likely not his aunt and uncle either. :)

_**Review Response #3**_: To Gehenna79, thanks for the comments! Jaime was spared because he saved King's Landing from being burned to the ground by wildfire on orders of Aerys II, that's a fairly noble action. At least I think so. Aegon yes is quite childish, he's been sheltered his whole life and only now is he being allowed out of his shell.

_**Review Response #4**_: To Beda, thanks for the review! I'm glad you're liking how things are going! Jon may become part of the Kingsguard, he has to prove it to Aegon's satisfaction... so who knows what could happen? Robb in the games seemed expected since he is the heir of the North, he's a good warrior and gets a chance to enter a royal tourney, so why not. Glad to help preserve your hair! Tyrion as hand, as a real hand now, I don't expect it might be the same as the original GoT since now he has more freedoms but also more restrictions. :) Also you have a sharp memory, being one step ahead of me! And thank you for your dedication to checking up on this fic!

_**Review Response #5**_: To LadyKatherine29, thanks so much for the grand review! I think Tywin is rather cranky, he hates losing and hates being made small, so I don't think it's a character stretch. I agree, Tywin losing his wife left him cold and hard, cruel even to some degree. Hope you enjoyed Cersei having morning sickness, perhaps it will be black of hair ;) Brennie, hmm that I could consider. I actually hadn't considered her since Renly isn't fighting some war to be king and hiring kingsguard. But perhaps it could happen!

_**Review Response**_**_#6_**: To The Black King, thanks for the comment! That IS very badass, more so than even I had imagined. Finally, Jon Snow gets some credit. Hopefully I can do him justice!

_**Review Response**_**_#7_**: To Swix, thanks for the review! Glad you like it! :)

_**Review Response**_**_#8_**: To Guest (also Deiron Lionheart?), thanks for the review! I'm sooo tempted to do something mean to Tywin, but I actually really like him. Sadly. And exactly! It seems some consider Aegon to be a new Maddening King while other seem to think he's his father's son. How exactly will he turn out I wonder. You're clever, perhaps too much so! While I actually was going for that affect of characters in disguise, one being let unknown, I didn't want it to be too Robin Hood. Though I think the archery tourney turned out to be interesting all the same!

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	9. Chapter 8 - Wolf on the Prowl

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

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**Chapter 8: Wolf on the Prowl**

The Stark dormitory was crowded as fast was broken, Ned Stark sat with his wife and children, chewing on a piece of roasted chicken. Across from him Arya wasn't eating a thing, more playing with her food as the family sat in near silence, except for a sniffling Sansa. Since the king was attacked, Sansa had bawled, having rushed to give the men her handkerchief for Aegon's wound. The golden cloak was shredded off his body, the arrow plume snapped off and he was lifted from the wooden throne, blood covering the stage. Daenerys was crying as much as Sansa was, along with most of the other ladies present. Asha Greyjoy looked horrified but she did not wail, salt and iron did not bleed the water it lived on while Arianne Martell was visibly shaken but also not shedding tears.

"It's not fair!" Sansa cried. "Why can't I see the king? He's hurt and needs comfort!"

"He needs rest." Ned replied, looking to his eldest daughter. "Jon is with him anyways."

"It's all Jon's fault! He's supposed to be a Kingsguard squire! He was right there! He was right there and the king got hurt! It should be Jon that dies!"

"Shut up!" Arya shouted at her.

"You shut up!"

"Both of you, enough!" Ned snapped at his daughter, looking between them. It had been like this for the three days since the king was brought back to the Red Keep.

"Jon _was_ there my dearest." Catelyn Stark said quietly, Ned only glanced over to her.

"I want to see him!" Sansa sobbed.

"Everyone does." Arya mumbled. "You're just the loudest."

"Would you just shut up!" Sansa yelled at her, Arya yanked on her hair. The pair screamed as they wrestled in their seats.

"Enough!" Ned shouted as he stood you. "Both of you go to your chambers and stay there until I come for you. Septa, take them."

"It's not fair! She started it!" Sansa cried, though she stood up obediently nonetheless. Arya didn't just stand, she bolted across the dormitory, around Ser Rodrick who tried to grab her.

"Arya!" Lady Stark called, echoed by her husband.

"Sansa, go!" Ned walked after his younger daughter out of the dormitory while the septa led Sansa to the Stark quarters, still crying loudly.

"Is the king going to die?" Bran asked quietly once the loud ones were gone.

"No!" Rickon pouted, he didn't seem to understand what was going on, but he knew everyone was upset.

"We don't know." His mother answered as she pulled Rickon over to her to hold him.

"But Jon is with him." Bran tried to convince himself.

"And maybe you will be too if you eat your potatoes." Robb said, pointing with his fork. "You need to eat if you want to be a knight of the Kingsguard someday."

"I think Jon has damned the Stark reputation." Lady Stark sighed.

"It wasn't Jon's fault though." Bran said, dropping his fork before looking to Robb. "Was it?"

"Eat Bran." Robb looked at his brother, he knew Jon had been right there, and that did put him at fault. Yet Robb couldn't help but wonder why his half-brother was being accused for not catching a speeding arrow.

"Arya!" She heard her father calling, but she kept running, turning every corner she found to get away. She wouldn't go back, she couldn't. It was Sansa's fault. The more her father called, the harder she ran until out of breath. Leaning against the wall, she heard more voices in a room not far from where she was. As she looked up, a gold banner hung on the wall. The Baratheon dormitory.

"Why can't I see the king?" A girl sobbed, but it was calmed and more composed than Sansa had been. Younger too.

"No one can see the king." A harsh voice came, the Stag.

"The king is a fool, getting hurt at his own games." Another harsh voice, but meeker sounding like a little prick trying to sound like a man. Arya didn't want to hear anymore, not from the Baratheons but she did want to listen more.

She followed the hallways, looking up for more banners and crests to mark the dormitories. Greyjoy, she heard nothing but the sound of forks and knives. The Lannisters weren't much different except she heard Lord Tywin tell someone to shut up. Turning another corner, she saw House Martell's dorm, hurrying towards it she slid to a stop as the door opened. Out came a slender woman with incredible beauty wearing a red, white and golden dress with long brown curls laying across her shoulders and back. Lady Arianne.

"Oh. Lady Arya Stark." She said quietly, giving the most graceful curtsy that Arya had ever seen. She did her best to return it, but in doing so she realized her gray-blue dress was ruffled and her braided hair was becoming messy.

"Lady Martell." Arya muttered, not remembering her name. Arianne smiled at her before excusing herself, walking by and down the corridor. Perhaps she had spied enough for one day, nearly having been caught snooping around the private dorms. Though now she was curious where the Martell lady was going, since most stayed in the dorms to avoid commotion with the royal guard.

Carefully, quietly, Arya trailed Arianne through the halls and turns of the Red Keep until they were on one of the sea-side terraces where the Martell lady stopped at the battlements. She folded her hands and rested them on her chest as she lowered her head.

'_Praying? She's praying?_' Arya was disappointed, but wondered who she prayed for. The king most likely. That wasn't so strange after all, Arya too prayed for Aegon. Everyone was. Going back into the Red Keep, Arya felt tired and remembered she was still being looked for by her father. Likely he'd inform his guard and she would be hunted, but not by the guard of the Red Keep. Since all the Kingsguard and most of the royal guard were keeping the king secure.

Deciding it was best to keep on the low, Arya started to find her way back to the Stark quarters. Without running into her father, sister or any Stark guards. Going up and down stairs, turning corners and going down long corridors trying to find a back way into the dormitory. Stationed royal guards didn't give her more than a glance as she went by, such a small child wasn't much of a threat to security. She past by a small kitchen and several more staircases heading in all directions, at one point finding herself outside on some other battlements.

The sun was out of sight soon as she headed down a long flight of circling stairs, she had no idea where they went or why she thought it was a good idea to go this way. There were no guards here, the corridors became smaller with long tunnels going every which way. Arya stopped to look around, the torches were sparse so it was pretty dark and she finally admitted to herself that she was lost.

"...missed... heart." Arya looked around frantically as voices echoed softly, pressing herself to a wall.

"...fourth..."

"...tired... the Dragon..."

Arya felt her heart race but she tried to remember back to her training with Syrio, calming herself. As she thought of her dancing master, she felt some tears roll down her face. Aegon. Would she ever spar with him again? She bit down on her lip hard to stop herself, come out of thought and focus on being quiet as she heard the footsteps get closer. She couldn't tell which tunnel they were coming from, so she shifted side to side, checking around trying to find them.

"...the king won't..."

"The Stag is in our way..."

"...his wife's loyalty to the throne is questionable."

"And the Lion wants to dig his teeth into the Dragon's throat still."

"That's a problem for us. A civil war would make for a rough succession for Prince Viserys."

"And now the Little Lion is watching out. So is the Wolf's bastard."

"And the poison?"

"My lord says the king was exposed to the venom gold long enough that he may die in just a few more days, if his wound doesn't kill him first."

Arya's eyes went wide, she leaned to the side, finally spotting the dark pair down one of the tunnels, coming towards her. She stumbled as she tried to jerk back, nearly falling, but something caught her. Her mouth was covered and she heard a soft 'shh' from behind her as she was pulled back into the shadows. Instead of struggling, Arya shut her eyes, trying to breath calmly through her nose as she listened.

"Who fired the arrow?"

"Not even my lord knows. And no one saw the archer. The small council is suspecting Tywin Lannister, Stannis Baratheon and Balon Greyjoy."

"My money is on Stannis, he'll be king after Viserys by right of succession."

"Stannis doesn't like getting dirty. His whore of a wife seems to sit just fine in the mud."

"But Stannis is protecting the king?"

"The man loves his oaths."

"Cersei will kill Stannis too so her son might have the throne."

"Joffrey? The Martells won't stand for that."

"No, my lord certainly would hate to see his puppet Viserys die."

"And the Little Lion would hate to lose his Dragon."

"Yes... now you can see why... and they can't..."

"My lord is already... so try..."

"...remember that..."

The voices echoed quieter and quieter until they disappeared completely, trailing away into nothing. Arya took a breath as the hand moved from her mouth and she stepped away, looking up quickly to see a man in tight black leathers, hooded. Yet she knew him.

"Are you alright my dear?"

"Yes... who..."

"Varys, of the small council."

"...The Spider."

"Also known as that yes. The eunuch, the non-man, however you say it." Varys smiled at her before looking around. "Best we leave this place my dear."

"What were you doing here?"

"Perhaps the same as you." He said, leading her down a tunnel.

"Who were they?"

"Enemies of the king would be my guess. Friends of some high lord too it seems."

"Stannis. Do they work for Stannis? Did he try to kill Aegon!?"

"Oh my dear, think for a second." He said, raising a brow at her. Arya pouted her lips, looking down as they walked.

"Stannis is loyal. Or they think so."

"Try not to ponder on it child." Varys stopped in the middle of the tunnel, turning her towards a wall.

"I'm not a child!"

"Oh you are my dear, better to be a child with less worry."

"I have lots of worry! I... the king..."

"Oh my dear, you worry for King Aegon?" Varys asked smiling to her, raising his brows. Arya nodded quickly, Varys reached over and pushed on the wall, pushing it open slowly. "Head down this path, be careful not to trip."

"Where does it go...?"

"Go and find out child." Varys said, urging her in. As she went, she looked back at him. "Try not to worry."

"...Thank you. I think." She said as she hurried down the dim path while Varys closed the wall. Arya felt the bricks, they seemed very worn down, some parts were wet. And she could hear water dripping down from the narrow vents that went to the surface, letting in minimal light. She understood why Varys had warned her be careful, as she almost fell when she reached a set of stairs with wide steps, some broken. It seemed to take an eternity, her legs ached by the time the ground leveled off again, a smoother path that broke off into different tunnels. Suddenly she didn't know what to do, so she shut her eyes and listened. There were hushed voices again, just nearby. Slowly she moved along the wall, listening, holding her breath as she took each step. Almost, she could almost hear them. And then she screamed.

The wall opened up and she tumbled into a solar. She got to her feet quickly and had to think quickly. She made a decision and closed the wall with her on the outside. There was no going back. The voices were gone now and in its place was the sound of armored men walking briskly, coming towards her. Looking around the solar, there wasn't anywhere she could easily hide, so she stood there like a frightened deer awaiting the hunting party. Within a moment, the two dark wooden doors opened and in marched two of the Kingsguard, one being Ser Barristan followed by half a dozen royal guard.

"You!" One of the Kingsguard shouted, drawing his sword.

"Who are you girl?" Ser Barristan demanded as he walked towards her. He looked sleepless, dark circles under his eyes.

"I'm... I'm Arya Stark..." She muttered out, the pair of Kingsguard looking at each other.

"How did you get here child?" Ser Barristan asked, kneeling down to be at her height.

"The wall... I came by some tunnels... I saw..." Arya tried to speak clearly but her voice cracked.

"Speak up Lady Stark." Ser Barristan was startled as much as she was.

"I just..." The knight sighed as he stood up.

"Come girl." He said, leading her out with the guards down the corridor to the grand foyer where Tyrion Lannister was speaking with Ser Jon Connington, Jon Snow standing near them, looking as grim as the grave.

"Jon!" She called out, both Jons and the Hand turning their heads.

"Arya! What are you doing here?" Snow asked as she ran to him, he put his arms around her.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She started to cry.

"The Stark girl? Here?... What?" Tyrion didn't know what to make of it. "How did she get through the guards? We must have fifty on duty just for stairways."

"Snow, this if your sister?" Ser Connington asked, looking at the sobbing girl.

"Yes Ser." Jon answered, looking at his mentor then to his sister. "Arya, how did you get here?"

"They said they tried to kill Aegon!" She wailed, much to the shock of everyone there.

"Who Arya?" Jon asked, kneeling down.

"Yes child, please... tell us what you know." Tyrion said going over to her.

"There were two of them. They said the Stag was loyal. That the Lion was angry. But... but it wasn't them. Someone else. Someone wants Viserys to be king. They tried to kill Aegon with poison, but someone shot him with the arrow."

"Two killers?" Ser Connington frowned, his face seemed to go pale at the thought of so many wanting to harm the son of his Silver Prince.

"It explains the king's sudden sickness." Tyrion grimaced. "Poison. The arrow though, it wasn't coated with anything. How was he poisoned? He had nothing to eat or drink after breaking fast."

"It wasn't the arrow! They said something about venom..." Arya sniffled.

"Venom?" Tyrion repeated.

"We need to check the king for bite marks." Ser Connington muttered.

"They didn't say anything about snakes. They said the venom gold. Something about gold."

"Gods help us." Tyrion sighed. "Jon take your sister back to the Stark dormitory. And no one, no one says a thing to anyone. Lady Stark, do you understand?"

"I won't. I promise. I... Can I see him? The king." She looked at Tyrion, still holding onto Jon, her face wet and puffy from crying.

"I..." Tyrion made a face and sighed. "Yes. You may. It might do him some good to have a friend see him, but you cannot touch him."

"I won't I promise!" She said quickly, wiping her face with her sleeve.

"Are you mad?" Ser Barristan hissed.

"Maybe." Tyrion looked up at the knight then to Arya. "He's badly hurt, and very weak. Having you near might lift his spirits though."

Arya nodded quickly as she pulled away from Jon as he stood up. The two walked with Tyrion to the royal chambers, opening the door quietly they entered. Four of the Kingsguard were there, including Jaime Lannister who seemed as smug as usual. In the large bed, Aegon laid with his arms atop the duvet, head laid back with his eyes shut. His chest and left shoulder was bandaged up. In the corner Maester Pycelle sat in a chair while next to the bed Princess Rhaenys held Aegon's hand. Her head turned back to them, her eyes were just as tired as Ser Barristan's but they soon became angry as she saw Jon Snow.

"Get him out of here." She hissed quietly.

"My princess." Snow bowed slightly. "I'm only escorting my sister, I'll take my leave."

"Jon..." Arya said softly as her half-brother left, Ser Connington put his hand on her back and eased her into the room.

"That man shouldn't have entered here. He should be at the Wall." Rhaenys said, holding back tears very visibly. Arya wanted to yell at her, but looking at Aegon, she couldn't say anything now. She made her way over to the end of the bed slowly, looking at him.

"Will he be okay?" Arya asked quietly, Rhaenys looked at her, at first angry but then sad.

"You're Arya Stark." The princess started to tear up again. "He's the Dragon, of course he'll be okay."

"Are you alright?" Arya muttered, anger came back to Rhaenys.

"Of course I'm not alright. My brother is wounded, my mother is by herself with grief."

"I-I'm sorry. I just... I want him to get better."

"So do I." Rhaenys muttered, turning to Aegon as she felt him move.

"My princess... I have some bad news." Tyrion said after the pair had quieted, walking to beside Rhaenys.

"What is it Lord Hand?" She had quickly accepted Tyrion as much as Daenerys and Aegon had, but she didn't appreciate his council. She didn't want anyone's council.

"Someone's poisoned the king." He said but not much to her surprise. Aegon was very sick, sweating profoundly, breathing hard and at times shaking. He had been like this for days but it seemed worse now. The Kingsguard glanced at each other, except Jaime Lannister who kept his eyes on his brother and the king.

"Poison?" Pycelle seemed to wake from a trance, standing and walking slowly over to them. "On what grounds do you say the king is poisoned?"

"We have new information maester." Tyrion said as he looked at the king.

"I have detected no poison in the king!"

"Well it is in him." Tyrion glanced over at Pycelle who seemed a bit panicked.

"I have served many kings. Many kings, my Lord Hand. And have studied countless poisons and venoms, I would know if something had been given to His Grace."

"Venoms?" Tyrion asked, glancing back at Ser Connington.

"Well, yes, yes Lord Hand. I know of all...sorts..."

"Ser Barristan. Ser Connington. Take Maester Pycelle back to his quarters for investigation, make sure he stays under guard."

"With damned pleasure." Connington growled, hand gripping his sword hilt as he went and practically dragged the maester out of the chamber.

"W-wait my lord! What are you doing?" He called from the halls.

"Lord Tyrion." Rhaenys said standing, Arya looked around frightened. "What's going on? You are breaking the peace of my brother's rest. Much needed rest let me remind you."

"Forgive me. I think Pycelle knows something, my princess. If you'll excuse me, I must look into the matter." He said, bowing and taking his leave. Rhaenys looked to Arya who stared back at her.

Snow looked at the door opening as Arya came out just after Tyrion. She went over to her brother and hugged him tightly, he put his arms around her. Letting out a sigh, she rested her head against his chainmail as Tyrion watched them.

"My Lady Stark." Varys said as he entered the foyer, looking at Arya.

"Ah, Lord Varys. So kind of you to join us. We have new information." Tyrion said as Arya pulled back from Jon.

"Yes, we need to speak my lords. In private." The Spider said, smiling. He wore fine purple silks now instead of black leather. "Your lord father is very worried my lady, I beg not to grieve him anymore and return to the Stark dormitory."

"Arya?" Snow shook his head at her.

"It was Sansa..." She grumbled.

"Well dear girl, you should go." Varys still smiled down at her.

"Yes child, go back to your father. Though... it was good that you got to see the king." Tyrion said, nodding his head as he bit his lip.

"Guard." Varys looked over his shoulder at one of the gold cloaks. "Bring our lady guest to the Stark dormitory."

Jon Snow looked down at Arya who said nothing as one of the guard led her out. Together they walked down two flights of stairs, Arya glanced around and saw two stationed guards not far up ahead at the bottom of the stairway.

"I can go on my own." She said, turning to the guard. "Your place is to protect the king."

"Mind yourself girl." He grumbled, looking at her and nodded. "Aye, you're right though. Move along."

Just as he turned and marched back up the stairs, Arya felt a deep sense of insult. She had infiltrated the royal apartments without notice yet still was not considered worth the time of a guard? Though still, she felt relief that she could climb back up the stairs quietly and unnoticed. As she reached the top, instead of walking straight into the foyer, she turned and headed down another hall, she needed to hear what Varys would say. Somehow she knew that he knew she would be there listening.

Stopping at every door she listened, avoiding the guards patrol and stations, she was silent. Until finally she found a chamber away from the main area, a good place for a secret meeting. And she heard Varys, Tyrion, Snow, Connington, and Barristan in the unguarded side room of a solar. Entering as quiet as the grave, she walked along the wall to the side room's door just as it shut, pressing up to it to listen. It unnerved her that Jaime Lannister was still in Aegon's room.

"...seems like the king was fortunate." Varys hummed.

"Fortunate? Are you blind?" She heard her brother snap.

"No, I'm afraid I'm not." Varys still hummed, quite pleased with himself.

"Lord Varys, what have you discovered?" Tyrion asked, he sounded far away, perhaps there was a terrace in the room and he was standing out on it.

"The king was attacked twice." Varys answered. "One attack saved him from the other."

"Twice? What do you mean?" Tyrion's voice became clearer now.

"He was poisoned before the arrow was shot and by being wounded, he was tended to. Thus he may escape the poison. Or venom as it were."

"Venom?"

"Yes. Considering the king has a cold fever, yet sweats, shakes and wheezes, it can only be from a venom. Snake venom is vicious and deadly, likely from the Summer Isles. Expensive, but effective." Varys let out a quiet sigh.

"Pycelle mentioned venom, unprovoked. And then sputtered when questioned." Tyrion grunted.

"I think Pycelle has an agenda but I do not believe he served the poison or notched the arrow. Nor aid in any service of those who did."

"No? Why?" Tyrion said doubtfully.

"Maester Pycelle is well-known to to be a servant of Lannister since the time of Aerys. He's a wise, well-educated man, he's not foolish enough to change sides."

"You make a point."

"That's treason!" Ser Barristan hissed. "Pycelle should be loyal to king and king alone!"

"Perhaps Ser." Varys said. "Lord Tyrion is of House Lannister, but also a servant of the king. So who should he serve? The father that helped give him life, or the king who gave him a position?"

"He gave his word!" The knight snapped.

"Words. Words are soft. Everyone everywhere gives their oaths to everyone. So which should be kept?" Varys hummed again. "Do not doubt a man if he has not acted."

"Watch yourself Spider!" Barristan was getting angry.

"Enough Ser. Thank you Lord Varys, that does clear the picture somewhat." Tyrion sighed. "I was beginning to think it was my father or Viserys behind the arrow. Then to learn of the poison. Can we cure the king?"

"I'm afraid not my Lord Hand." Varys joined him in a sigh. "Venom must pass through the body, few antidotes can assure survival, especially since we do not know what serpent fang it came from."

"Are you saying we let the king die?" Snow shouted.

"There must be a way!" Ser Connington grunted.

"As I said, I'm afraid not." Varys answered. "Even a small amount of venom will destroy a large man from the inside out, the king is not large and not very strong sadly."

"No!" Connington yelled.

The yelling began between them, Arya couldn't listen anymore, it was if she had gone deaf. Aegon would die from poisoning? From a serpent's venom? How? Why? She was running, she hadn't even noticed until she stumbled down the stairs. Guards shouted at her as she ran by them, going and going so hard, they couldn't keep up. Her legs were numb and burning at the same time, her feet throbbing and her face soaked in tears.

'_Aegon_' His name rang, echoed in her mind.

'_Aegon. Aegon. Aegon._' Over and over his name sped through her mind. She ran faster, harder, falling down a flight of stairs only to get up immediately and continue running. The sun blinded her as she ran on the ramparts and walks, still going hard until her legs gave out, collapsing onto the brick floor. She cried, wept and wailed.

'_Aegon. Aegon..._' Her tears came fast, she pounded the ground until her fists hurt. '_Gods save him_...'

Out in the open, the clouds rushed over the sky, shading her from time to time as she clawed at the ground, her whole body shaking and hurting. Overhead a crow flew, landing for a moment to stare at her before taking flight again to the East, towards Dragonstone.

'_Old and new... gods... gods... Aegon..._'

"Aegon..." She muttered, looking up at the clouds, shutting her eyes as the sun came out. Arya forced herself to open them to the light. "Aegon... gods... Aegon. Aegon. Aegon..."

The wind howled between the keep and towers, over her like a piercing whistle. And to her, it seemed as if the sun shone brighter.

"AEGON!" Her voice went over the wind, carried by it.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: This chapter may seem a bit bland, it's more of a setup for the future chapters. Just some information and some situations needed to be presented for the sake of not making this a Greek drama. Not much to actually comment on this chapter, next one is almost outlined so hopefully once I return home I can fish it out! And by chapter 10 I'll have a little activity for readers to participate in, if you so choose to! ;)

_**Review Response**_: To Zirael07, thanks for the review! I'm happy to hear you think this fic is going so good! :)

_**Review Response #2**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the comments! That would be so cruel to you readers to just murder Aegon, it could happen of course and that's how the fic would end, but I promise not to do it that abruptly. A time may come when he will be dead, but you'll know it, and there'll be a follow up. My personal guess would be one of Tywin's lackies, but who knows who it was ;) The wolf cloak has its own meaning, which will come later on! And yes, the Targaryens had two Valyrian swords, both of which were lost. Dark Sister was lost hundreds of years prior, while Blackfyre was taken after the last of the Blackfyre Rebellions, the owner (his name escapes me at the moment) went and founded the Golden Company mercenaries across the Narrow Sea. I'm sure if Aegon had accepted Ice, there would have been a severe tension and problem between him and the Starks. Then again, Aegon is just as skilled as Arya with a sword, so I don't think he's ready for a Valyrian blade anyways!

_**Review Response #3**_: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks for the review! I'm happy to hear that you liked it, and the ending even though it's rocky. Aegon's not dead, at least not yet. He has an uneasy relationship with the Starks, sine the North is so different from the rest of Westeros. Not to mention Ned Stark has many reasons to be unhappy with the Targaryen dynasty. Time will tell what will happen! :D

_**Review Response #4**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks for the review! Filler for a fanfic, to me at least becomes a rant since I'm not good at creating good filler. So I try to stick to the point, as best I can. And looking over chapters isn't much of an option currently, though it will be soon. As of now I'm more concentrated on story outline while I try to get at least a chapter out a week. :)

_**Review Response #5**_: To Andrea, thanks for the review! Yes the Stark cloak is an abstract, as much as the Martel golden cloak is, both having similar meanings but from very different perspectives. Eventually though the abstract will turn objective and become important to some extent. I'm glad you're enjoying the story, I'll do my best not to kill Aegon ;) And thanks for the encouragement!

_**Review Response #6**_: To Beda, thanks for commenting! Yeah it just seemed too good a chance, cliffhangers keep the reader interested to some extent! White plume arrows, kingsguard, you're very clever! ;) Oooh he bleeds, fire must follow... _ Are you looking at my outline notes by any chance? *sneakily hides them*

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	10. Chapter 9 - Dream of Ice and Fire

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 9: Dream of Ice and Fire**

Inside there was a great heat, burning like wildfire. Above and around was an icy wind, screeching and chilling the bone instantly. The contrast tore at his body, he cried out in pain but no sound came from his mouth as every muscle ached and each bone stressed itself to near snapping. His eyes wouldn't open, they couldn't open for the ice had frozen them shut. Yet he knew he must open them, he must see, he must know. He had to fight this.

Aegon looked around, gasping for breath as he was suddenly in darkness. The flame inside calmed and the freezing storm was gone. He dared to take a step, and then another, and another. His feet caused a great echoed, each like a clash of thunder booming in the sky. And with every step his vision became more clear. He was starting to feel hot again, or rather warm as light began to pierce the darkness and sound entered into this existence. A firm, controlled voice began to reach his ears, it sounded like the chiming of iron to him. With more steps the voice grew louder, and the sound of a harp soon joined the singing, played with great mastery.

"_Starlight is the hand that caresses the heavens._

_It is my voice, my sweet melody and all my confessions of love._

_Though you've faded, I won't forget you._

_Summers will bloom and winters will melt,_

_Yet my heart beats for you and you alone._

_Starlight is forever and even though you're gone,_

_My will to love you will never part from me._

_And like our love, your memory is eternal,_

_Forever will you remain with me even though you're gone,_

_My love will never fade and starlight will never dim._"

"Father..." Aegon muttered, recognizing the sorrowful song. His whisper made no sound but the bard heard him. As Aegon stepped onto a cliff-side meadow he could see the figure sitting near the edge with his back to the king, the sun beaming down on them. The bard had long hair that went down his back, broad shoulders but a slender body under his golden garments.

"Not quite." The bard said as he stood up, harp in hand before he turned to face the king, glancing down at him. Aegon was a few feet from the man, he couldn't see it any clearer than he did now as he stared at himself.

"You..."

"You, yes."

"I... no I meant..." Aegon frowned. "What's going on? Am I dead?"

"Dead? No I don't think so. Maybe."

"Are you me? I mean... Yes, are you me?"

"Yes. No. I don't remember. Yes. I'm your father. I'm your son."

"My...what? You're not making any sense."

"I don't have to. You're the lost Dragon in the wilderness. You're the one who doesn't make any sense."

"I'm not lost." Aegon said as he looked over the cliff, nothing but fog, the same around him.

"Then where are you?"

"...Westeros."

"Are you sure? You've never seen Westeros."

"Shut up!" Aegon snapped, turning around and started walking into the fog.

"That won't work." He heard the bard speak, Aegon stopped and looked back, shocked. He had taken so many steps but he hadn't moved.

"What is this place?" Aegon asked, frightened now. He blinked and the meadow was gone and in its place the darkness had returned. In a panic, he turned frantically to search for the bard or the meadow. It didn't take long for the darkness to begin to fade once more, but instead of sunshine, flames lit the king's way. Aegon ran off in a sprint, into the fires, feeling their heat on his skin as he ran between burning houses. He could hear screams, people calling for mercy and the sound of the dying.

"Father!" He called, and again as he ran into the town square where the town well was crumbled and the market was aflame. Aegon slowed to a halt as he saw soldiers marching into the square from every direction, the Targaryen dragon banner flying among them while they marched on the banners of the Lannisters, Martells and Baratheons.

"You! Name yourself!" From high on a black steed, wearing armor as black as coal with red streaks in the design of a flame, sat a great man, his dragon helm masking him.

"Aegon Targaryen! Sixth of my Name and King of-"

"Impudent fool. You are no king!" The commander shouted as he rode slowly towards Aegon, a few of his men accompanying him. Removing his helm and handing it to one of the soldiers, Aegon found himself again faced with a mirror image. This one was much older, broad and tall with a crescent scar going from his forehead across his eye and cheek to his jawline. The years were hard on this Aegon, his hair was short and had dried blood in it.

"I am King Aegon." The commander looked down at the boy, he made no expression but his eyes were like fire, a hungry fire that wanted to consume everything.

"How can this be..."

"You are not fit to rule. You can't even wield a sword."

"I can! I've been training!"

"Training? With a Bravoosi? What of the great master-at-arms that serve the Red Keep? What of the famously skilled Kingsguard that secure your life? Why should they be cast aside for a foreigner!" The older Aegon barked at him.

"I... They couldn't teach me. They were-"

"You were too unwilling. And you showed great weakness."

"How dare you!" Aegon shouted, but as soon as he did, the soldiers drew their swords and kept him back.

"Heh. You see boy, I am king. These men live and die by my word. You are a puppet, a lame lizard that has no place on the Iron Throne."

"And this? What is all this? It's a slaughter!"

"This? This is the remains of our enemies. I was king enough to crush them before they could dare stand against me."

"That's... terrible."

"No king sits with ease and I do not sit by and let others rule in my place like you do! If you are to lead then lead!" The older king shouted as he dismounted and drew his sword, a bright Valyrian sword that was stained with blood as much as his silver hair was.

"I do lead! I will be crowned! I will-"

"Enough! Die pretender!" As the brutish king swung, Aegon felt a sharp pain inside him as the blade cut through him like he were made of only water and no bone. And as he cried out, the darkness engulfed him again. Falling to his knees, he held where the sword had struck and found no wound.

The darkness shifted and swirled, soon flickers of light came through. Fire, he saw fire again, but this time it was soft and warm. Stone appeared around and he found himself in a circular library with books scattered on tables and the floor. On the far side of the room from where he was kneeling, he saw a man with his back to him, long braided silver hair that went almost to the floor. He wore purple and gold robes that seemed too big for his slender body, but he was tall. Another Aegon, he supposed.

"Oh? You're here already?" The man said, turning to Aegon and glancing down at him. "You should stand, you know. The floor is very cold. Though I suppose outside is all the more icy."

"Who are you? Are you me?" Aegon asked as he got to his feet and walked towards the older version of himself.

"Yes and no. You see, I'm a failure."

"A failure?" Aegon stopped, looking at the man who smiled.

"Yes. I wanted to be a good king, a strong king, but I couldn't see the shadows behind the Iron Throne. And soon, winter came. A long winter, too long perhaps."

"Winter? How does that make you a failure?..."

"I ignored good counsel and all the signs of a summer's end. I dared not enter the fire of my ancestors and instead stayed in the Red Keep against those who would destroy warmth."

"What are you saying?" Aegon frowned at the man, this one spoke the clearest but made the littlest sense.

"They came in hordes, and the Red Keep was torn asunder. A generation now lives in icy fields, fearing for their lives against snow and beast alike. And I could not save them."

"What? Who came in hordes? From where?"

"Questions that come too late. We knew, but we chose to ignore and pursue a war that engulfed Westeros to decide who would sit on a chair." The older Aegon sighed.

"Then what are you doing now? Shouldn't you be fighting?!"

"Fighting? My boy the war is lost. All I can do now is preserve what little I can, and master the arts of fire."

"Arts of fire? Magic?" Aegon made a face in disbelief.

"Do not doubt boy. That will lead to your downfall." The scholarly Aegon smirked. "And do not be blind, as I was. Or it will end the same as this."

"Blind to what?"

"Hear their voices, listen. I ignored good counsel and all the signs of a summer's end..."

"Winter then? Are you telling me about winter?" Aegon said, soon shouting as the older man turned away from him and turned back to his books. Soon the image of him faded but instead of the darkness returning, Aegon found himself in emptiness. He was floating, as if in a sea of light yet it was cold and he shivered. As he started to shut his eyes, finally ready to sleep, he heard a shout.

"Winter is coming!" His eyes snapped open and he sat on the Iron Throne, looking down at all the lords and ladies of Westeros before him. All of them wore black in mourning.

"Lord Stark?" Aegon asked looking to the Wolf, who else would have said those words.

"Your father abducted my sister! Your grandfather murdered my kin!"

"I... that wasn't me. I didn't..."

"You're too weak to rule." Tywin stepped forward and hissed at the king.

"Now see here! I am the Dragon! I-"

"Ha! The Dragon he says. They died out long ago my boy, you should join them."

"How dare you!" Aegon stood up and looked down at the Lion but then to Prince Doran as he approached.

"You are unfit to rule. You Targaryen spawn." Doran spoke calmly but his tone was angry. "You and your family bring fire and blood, your motto could not speak any truer. You're a monster. You tyrant!"

"Uncle..."

"Your father started a war that killed thousands, including my brother!" Stannis joined in, sword in hand. "It was your father who was supposed to die!"

"Your irresponsibility is destroying the Kingdoms." Jon Arryn said from behind Ned Stark.

"And you let anyone whisper, and you listen." Mace Tyrell grinned. "It's such a shame I didn't make it to your ear first."

"You pay the iron price boy, for your gold won't ever save you." Balon Greyjoy laughed. "I'll celebrate the day they put your head on a spike along with the rest of your family!"

"Silence!" Aegon screamed, putting his hands on his head as he sat on the throne. "Enough! Enough! Enough! Out! All of you!"

"You'll hear us boy." Tywin snapped.

"We're not going anywhere." Balon snarled.

"You are no king of mine." Ned turned his back.

"Nor mine." Doran joined him, and soon all the Paramounts, lords and ladies turned away from Aegon. He felt himself wanting to cry, he buried his face into his hands. His body shook uncontrollably and he felt hot, like a fever was rushing over him. The tears were about to come when he heard someone cry behind him, making him jump up. The Iron Throne was gone, the lords and ladies were gone, the Red Keep was gone and he was in a dim dungeon. In the corner he saw a small boy crying into his knees, holding his legs tight against his chest.

"So this is what it's come to." Aegon looked back hearing the gruff voice, he saw the scholar. And the warrior. And the bard.

"Pathetic." The warrior spat, the bard shook his head. Aegon frowned at them and hurried over to the child, kneeling down. His eyes widened as he saw the silver hair and when the boy looked up, even with a bruised face he could see it was himself. Pulling the boy close, he hugged him tightly and began to cry with him.

"I'll protect you, I promise." Aegon muttered, not sure what good it would do to shield a shadow of his life. "I will. I will. Please don't cry. You don't have to cry anymore..."

"Let him die in peace." The warrior grumbled.

"His last song is about to play." The bard sighed out, stringing a few notes.

"And to history will he fade." The scholar crossed his arm and leaned against the wall.

"No! No! Don't cry, please... please stop crying." Aegon tried to hush the boy as he stroked his head, sobbing still with the child.

"There is no way you can change things..." The scholar noted.

"No?... I suppose there isn't." Aegon said looking up at the three.

"Then be a man, and let yourself die. Let the strong take over." The warrior smirked. Aegon stood up, lifting the boy with him. He began to shake again, and he could feel the child going cold. The boy was so cold, stiff and unmoving in his arms. The cold was spreading and the warmth inside of him was fading, the icy wind began to return. Aegon blinked, finding himself falling through a blizzard, a curtain of ice and snow that parted only as he fell through it.

"It's over... I can rest..." Aegon sighed as his body shivered, his hair flying around in the wind as he fell. Staring up, he couldn't see the sky and all around there was nothing. He listened to the wind, brutal and cruel as it was, he felt he heard something comforting in it. And so he began to shut his eyes, but opened them as he heard something. Not the wind, something else.

He looked around, every muscle in his body was still and he could barely move his eyes now. They stun against the icy shards and he felt frozen to the bone. Yet something beckoned him, a warmth, a whisper. Something. The wind howled around him, under him, over him like a piercing whistle. It was a blanket of snow, colder than anything imaginable. And yet to him as he listened to this new whisper, it seemed as if the sun shone down on him.

"AEGON!" The voice went over the wind, carried by it.

From within the Red Keep, his eyes burst open.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: So sorry that it's a short chapter. And that it's a bit late into the week. I had some computer issues and whatnot, so that was a lot of 'fun'... Anyways, Aegon seems to be alright for the moment... a little brain-woozy from the venom with fever dreams, but otherwise in one piece. I was so tempted to make this a Green Dream, but I figured Aegon's a Targaryen king, he doesn't really need anything much more special about him, so I opted out of that. But I was tempted. Very. Next chapter comes the coronation and a reader-activity at the end of the chapter which will assist in shaping a few things. Remember to review or Cersei... ehhh she's still out of order... uh I guess review or Sansa will kill Jon Snow... somehow. Really. Ghost won't help or anything. She'll talk him to death or something, I warn you!

_**Review Response**_: To Beda, thanks for the reviews! Clever still aren't you? ;) Is this really the Game being played or are the pieces being set in place for something... bigger? Jon does get the dirty end of the stick, and Aegon will likely defend him, but it's the idea that Jon was right next to him, but I would love to see anyone catch an arrow without notice. Hurray for arrogance. His great uncle Aemon couldn't leave the wall since he's so old, he barely makes it around Castle Black very easily, though likely he's no better a maester than any of the others. I do wonder what he thinks about all this commotion though, probably nothing nice. Fire will come yes, fire must come if this is to really be a story about a Targaryen, but when? Hmm who could say :D And the cloaks, well it'll get there eventually! Also I'm sorry I couldn't get the chapter out soon enough, the gods are cruel! :(

_**Review Response #2**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the review! A lot of blame is purposely being put on Jon Snow, because he is a squire and because he is a bastard. It may be unfair, but I have a very specific point later on to make with it ;) And the game is so far into motion, Aegon's just a piece in the puzzle. The conspiracy will hopefully knock socks off.

_**Review Response #3**_: To Zireael07, thanks for the review! I'm glad you think so! :D

_**Review Response #4**_: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks for the comments! Arya is very much an outcast and that's what makes her so amazing. Hopefully she and Aegon have more moments together ;)

_**Review Response #5**_: To The Black King, thanks for the comment! Yeah as you can tell, I'm focusing blame on Jon, he even promised the Queen-Regent to use his own body to shield Aegon! Don't worry though, this blame adds up to something :)

_**Review Response #6**_: To Mari, thanks for the review! I very easily can see your point, and it is very valid however I chose to maintain the bastard Lannisters because are a huge focus of the GoT series, and it's a good plot as well. Though yes Stannis is not a drunk, he is a man of duty. Cersei has given him (or so he thinks) three children, he had little reason to venture into her bed except from time to time to keep up appearances. He's not an affectionate or loving man in the least, nor is he very lustful, so he's little reason to copulate with Cersei more than he needs to. Cersei and Jaime likely had behind the scene rendezvous in King's Landing somehow. I hope that helps clarify my decision :)

_**Review Response #7**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks for the review! I'm happy to hear that you think it went so well :)

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	11. Chapter 10 - The Dragon is Crowned

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 10: The Dragon is Crowned**

The song coming from the choir of septas danced through the entire sept-proper as Aegon bowed a second time to the great towering statue of the Father and then to the Mother, stepping back before turning to walk down the long aisle. Having completed his march down all seven aisles to give praise to each of the Seven, he stepped onto the great platform in the center underneath the colossal crystal dome which created looms of rainbow beams that filled the room. All stood among the six sections of pews that was headed by each of the Paramounts, behind them their honored guests and families, and behind them loyalists of their House and finally those in normal attendance.

Beside his cousins and father, Tyrion had a pretty good view of Aegon as he turned to face the front of the sept. And he thought that Aegon looked magnificent. The soon-to-be-crowned king wore all white vestments at Tyrion's suggestion, his doublet was fitted to his body and broadened his shoulders, the chest and back had a crosshatch pattern and at each point was a tiny ruby surrounded by seven even smaller onyx stones. The cuffs of the doublet and the hems were lined with gold threads that shaped dragon wings and small silver buttons on each wing tip. And resting on his chest was a golden amulet that had large pieces of smooth, shiny onyx forming a background for a three-headed red dragon that was made up of gold accents and small rubies, the weight of the medallion was held up by a gold livery collar with the front square links hosting the sigils of each Paramount House while the other links were dragon wings.

On his left shoulder and upper-right breast were two large gold dragon-head shaped pin-clasps that held his long flowing cape in place. The cape bared the rainbow lights that shone on the white silk, lined with great amounts of gold thread and silver fur. His trousers were less-fitted than his doublet, with the sidings lined with gold embroiderer and tiny diamonds and rubies that were sewn among the gold. And his boots were of a very light, almost silver-gray color that were hemmed with white fur and golden stitching, the leather polished to a brilliance. His hair was tied back in a small tail, bound with a silver cord that had small gold dragon-heads on the ends of the cord.

"I, Aegon of House Targaryen do solemnly swear in the light of the Seven to uphold their laws. I shall protect those in their light, under my care." Tyrion listened to his young king swear his oaths, and couldn't help but smirk. Swear this, promise that, he was finding that all of Westeros was glued together with words both spoken and written down. A curious thing.

"Let the Seven smile on you." The High Septon sung, anointing Aegon with sacred oils on his forehead. Tyrion's eyes began to wander up to the crystal dome that crowned the Great Sept of Baelor.

'_How in the Seven hells... er..._' He glanced to the Father and lowered his head before looking back to the dome. '_...they got that massive excuse of a window to stay up there._'

"And do you so promise to protect the lands, the people and the laws that are lighted by the Seven?" The High Septon continued, swinging a golden orb of incense on either side of the king.

'_Didn't he -just- say that?_' Tyrion tried not to sigh but he couldn't help himself. At least he found amusement looking across the sept to Ned Stark who looked even more bored than he did. Perhaps the new gods were far crueler than the old if they made people stand through two hours of this.

"Will you honor the Father, the Mother, Maiden, Warrior, Smith, and Crone?"

'_Poor Stranger._' Tyrion looked up at the robed statue. '_Seems some of us really get no credit hm?_'

"Do you swear to reign over and protect the Greyjoys of the Iron Islands in good faith with the Seven?"

'_Really?... I mean, really? I thought this was supposed to be about the king, it seems like they're trying to shove the Seven up the poor boy's ass..._' Tyrion glanced at the statue of the Father and bit his bottom lip. '_Sorry... it's true though. You're all quite big and he's a bit small. I'm smaller though. I'm Tyrion Lannister by the way... though I'm sure you knew that... I need a drink, I'm going insane._'

"Do you swear to reign over and protect the Arryns of the Vale in good faith with the Seven?"

"I so swear in light of the Seven to do so."

"Do you swear to reign over and protect the Lannisters of the Westerlands in good faith with the Seven?"

'_I need a dozen drinks to forget this madness._'

The oaths seem to go on and on, until the High Septon stepped back and bowed to Aegon as two septas carried a small chest between them up onto the platform. Aegon sunk down slowly onto one knee, the Kingsguard around the platform at attention with both hands on their swords, the blade-tips against the marble floor. To many what came next may not have much effect, but to Tyrion it did when he saw the Valyrian steel crown lifted from the chest by the High Septon. A circular crown of fine steel, dressed with large square-cut rubies that sparkled in the bright light coming from the crystal dome. Tyrion smiled, the crown of Aegon the Conqueror.

Suiting since it was the only crown that any Aegons who weren't disastrous had worn. The Dragonsbane had worn the slender gold circlet, though so too had Aegon the Unlikely and Rhaegar the Bard. And the Unworthy was crowned with a large crown of red-gold with dragon heads around it, as had the Mad King. The Little Lion was pleased with the choice of crown that this Aegon had picked. Though he looked to House Martell, perhaps they wouldn't notice it was also the crown of Daeron, the Young Dragon who subdued Dorne for the first time. He did see Queen Elia among the Martells, perhaps the only one in the Great Sept seated, dabbing under her eyes with a lace handkerchief as she watched her son.

"In light of the Gods, in witness of the Paramount, in sight of Westeros: I hereby crown you Aegon of House Targaryen, Sixth of your Name to be Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. May your reign be long and full of prosperous summers." The High Septon placed the circle crown over Aegon's head, slipping it on so one of the great rubies was in the middle of his forehead. "Rise Your Grace, as the King of Westeros."

"Hail to the King!" The crowd chanted out seven times.

"Gods keep the King!" Tyrion only half-shouted that part, feeling the gods had no place in protecting Aegon. That was the Kingsguard's job.

The coronation march was echoed by septa song with King Aegon leading, followed by Ser Barristan and Dowager Queen Elia then the Kingsguard and then the Lord Paramounts. Leaving the sept-proper, the march entered into the Hall of Lamps where the rainbow glow shrouded the king and march as they made their ways to the great doors of the sept between columns of dragon banners held high among the suspended lamps. As the doors open, the song of the septas was drowned by the ringing of the seven bell towers and the cheers of all King's Landing welcoming their newly crowned king.

Mounting a white steed adorned with gold ornaments and white roses, Aegon rode with his Kingsguard surrounding him, the Paramounts each in a gilded carriage with their entourage. Babes and infants were held high above their parents' heads, young maidens curtsied extra low to passing king hoping to be given a glimpse and many young boys ran alongside the coronation march, waving up at Aegon. The cries of joy and the bells of the Great Sept shook the city, a decade of plans had finally come to blossom. The sun dazzled the rubies on the king's head, forming an aura of silver and red splendor around him as he waved to the people. His people. He was king at last.

The procession continued to the Red Keep, where great brass trumpets sounded the call that the king had arrived. Dragon banners hung from every turret and gate, flew on every tower peakand battlement, with every servant and guard wearing their best as they saluted the coronation march when King Aegon made his way through the gates. Even as the trumpets' echo faded, the bells of Baelor rung out still as loudly as before, while Aegon dismounted his steed and marched with his Kingsguard to the Great Hall.

Upon the Iron Throne the king sat with the ruby circle crown on his head, the Dowager Queen on his left and Hand of the King just arriving to sit at his right. The Kingsguard stationed in a line below, the council taking place on the sides with the newly ordained Peytr Baelish as Master of Coin present among them. Princess Rhaenys and Princess Daenerys had seats of honor beside the Queen-Mother with Viserys being no where to be seen, uninvited. Jon Snow had his place behind Tyrion, not in direct sight as he stood with some of the council but close enough to both king and Ser Connington.

As the Paramounts each came in with the lords and ladies of Westeros, the six lords knelt before Aegon as did all the other nobles in the Great Hall. Aegon seemed to do well with the attention this time, difficult to believe that only a fortnightpast he had been in bed, waking after being near death. The coronation had been delayed but now it had arrived, and each of the Paramounts renewed their oaths of fealty to King Aegon. Though the vision of his dream seemed before him with the Great Hall filled, Aegon did not seem bothered. The same could not be said for his mother, the Dowager Queen glanced at Jon Snow several times as lords gave their word of loyalty to her son. While Aegon had granted the squire a place in the coronation march as reward for his diligence, and Rhaenys had even made a small apology to him, Elia was rather angry to have the bastard near her son after failing to protect him. Though perhaps that's not why she felt this bitterness towards , the king had spoken and now the king's voice was the law, so there Jon Snow stood among the honored.

Tyrion once again found himself glancing around, boredom weighing down on him, probably making him even shorter. Every lord said the same as the last, changing only their title and land holdings with words of promise to follow. The Hand looked to his king who seemed to be beaming with pride, but the more Tyrion stared, the more he saw how tired Aegon's eyes were becoming. Looking forward once more he supposed that the king would be the most tired of all, having become the centerpiece for all attentions. The Little Lion frowned, he knew it would be more difficult from now on. Much more difficult. Finally, though not soon enough for Tyrion, the last of the lords gave his oath, knelt down before stepping away into the crowd of nobles.

"I thank you for your fealty, my good lords." Aegon called out over all of them as they became silent. "I am now truly King of Westeros, and I already have a decree made ready for this grand day. Lord Arryn, Lord Stark, Lord Tully, approach."

There was a quiet murmur among the crowd, each anxious to know what was going to be said. Tyrion too was curious, and looking in the king's direction he saw the Queen Mother seeming just as anxious as the nobles. This had not been practiced nor had Aegon made mention of this to anyone. For a moment Tyrion felt nervous, but took a breath and decided it would be better to trust in his king than doubt him before he had done anything. Jon Arryn, Eddard Stark and Edmure Tully came before the king, kneeling down as they had before until Aegon bid them to rise.

"We are at your command, your Grace." Jon Arryn spoke, bowing his head as all three stood before Aegon who smiled at them.

"My Lord Paramounts, I would have you extend your stay in King's Landing for a month's time. Once preparations are made, we shall then depart north and you will provide escort on your journey home. Lord Arryn and Lord Tully, you will march with my company and that of Lord Stark till the Neck where I release you from this duty."

"As you command, my king. Until the Neck, the knights of the Valeand my House are at your disposal." Jon Arryn said with a bow.

"Yes, Riverrun would welcome you, my king if you wished to divert your route and rest for a few days." Edmure added after.

"I happily accept, Lord Edmure." Aegon looked at the two before glancing to the Wolf. "Lord Stark, from the Neck you shall escort myself and my entourage to Winterfell. I would see the Wall and stay in the King's Tower where no king has slept in a century."

"A great honor for the Night's Watch and the North your Grace, and also for my House." Ned replied, bowing his head. "I would be happy to host you at Winterfell and bring you to the Wall myself."

"You make me more gladdened to journey to the North, Lord Stark."

"You are more mature to make such a journey, my king." Ned glanced up at Aegon.

"Mature? Hardly." Aegon seemed quite happy with himself despite his response. "Though I do hope seeing the greatness of the Wall will help me become more of a man."

"Your Grace." Prince Doran Martell stepped forward with two crutches, bowing his head low instead of kneeling. "The Gallant Dragon still awaits in harbor, might I suggest you take it to the Wall?"

"You are most kind to remind me uncle. I plan to sail the Gallant Dragon home. I wish to know the road and coast both so that I might better reign."

"You are young, dear nephew, but wise in your decision." Doran smiled up at Aegon, though he seemed rather fretting over the idea of the king taking the road instead of the sea. There was nothing more to be said however, for in a few days time he would be returning back home along with all the other Paramounts besides the three ordered to remain. And for the first time in quite awhile, Tywin Lannister would be journeying to Casterly Rock.

* * *

There were others fretting, much more openly than the Martell Prince. Viserys had been stalking around the Red Keep for days now, fuming with such anger that the Kingsguard had to twice restrain him from seeing the king and even needed to threaten the prince with house arrest. That just made him all the more furious. He had gone around slashing at the walls, tapestries and tables with his sword, evening slaying a cat as it laid in the sun. And now he had his sword out and ready to strike down another frightened creature.

"I should be king. I should be. I was meant to be. I should have the crown. The throne. All of it." He grumbled over and over, madly repeating himself.

"They're doing everything they can, my prince" Lancel Lannister tried to reassure the crazed dragon.

"Everything? Everything? They tried one plan and have done nothing since! Now that bastard sits on my throne! My throne!"

"O-one? My prince they have attempted several times but to no avail. Please, this takes time."

"Time? Time!? I've waited a decade for the brat to die, wanting to strangle him myself if I had the thought to do so."

"Please don't be hasty my prince!" Lancel put his hands up as Viserys came near him, sword still in hand, fresh with the cat's blood.

"Hasty? You dare to tell me what to do?"

"N-not at all! No! No! Not at all! I just... I just... I..."

"Stop your muttering and speak up! You're speaking to your king!"

"Yes my prince! I mean my king!.. I mean your Grace!"

"They love him out there! Him! That short, skinny branch of a boy that's useless!"

"At...at least he's no warrior like you, your Grace." Lancel stumbled, sweating on his forehead as he eyed the sword.

"Warrior like me? Don't be ridiculous. I put a lot of time and money in to making sure no one would teach him decently. He couldn't even hold a blade properly until that foreigner came along. That Ned Stark did this. The Wolf awoke the Dragon."

"Yes, yes... what your Grace? I mean... of course... It's just that..."

"Speak up! What are you trying to say or do I have to cut out your tongue?!" Viserys hissed, raising the sword to near the Cousin-Lion's face.

"Just... just it's Lord Stark... you're so clever to see that he and his daughter are being treasonous. Yes, so clever... your Grace."

"Daughter? What daughter? The little bitch? What does she have to do with it? Speak!"

"Well... well everyone knows..."

"Are you calling me stupid?" Viserys said under his breath, Lancel backed away as the blade came closer.

"No! No! No your Grace! Just that the... the... it's peasant-talk that Arya Stark and your lowly nephew spar almost daily! My-my cousin said that she was no issue but... but... but I'm sure if your Grace commanded it, my cousin would do away with her too!"

"Do away with a child?"

"N-no your Grace! She's of the North, a beastly thing no better than a wildling! Not worthy of your splendid mercy!"

"A wildling?" Viserys grinned, finally lowering his sword. "Good, because I'm a gentle king. I don't murder children. A wildling yes, for the good of the realm..."

"Of course your Grace." Lancel said nodding quickly like a fool.

"Go and tell your cousin what we've spoken." Viserys sheathed his sword, anger seeming gone from him for the time being.

"A-At once, my king!" Lancel began to hurry off.

"Oh and Lannister..." Viserys looked over at the frozen boy, smiling. "You might yet get a knighthood for your loyalty."

"T-thank you... your Grace." Lancel managed to say before he did truly hurry.

* * *

*****Reader Participation:**

(The activity has been closed as I've gathered all the information I need. Thank you to all who participated!)

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: Please leave your responses in your review! And thank you ahead of time! Hmm, I feel like I made Lancel too clever for himself, but without a knighthood to hide behind I'm sure he'd have only his wits to hide behind instead of a Ser-dom. Hopefully you enjoyed the coronation! I really wanted to put in some detail to what had been so long in the planning by Elia and the council, likely Rhaegar couldn't have done it better. Please review and leave your thoughts! Or Cersei will... well she's pregnant but not enough so to stop her from plotting. She's evil. And absent. That's worrisome.

_**Review Response**_: To Mari, thanks for the review! I'd be so afraid of Westerosi ghosts of Christmas, one would probably be a White Walker... As for Shireen though, Cersei is apparently pregnant so, whose to say it won't be a girl? ;) May not be the same mother, nor really same time frame, but I did want to bring her into the plot and as an infant she'll be perfect for what I have in mind.

_**Review Response #2**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks for the review! Glad you thought it turned out so well, very spot on with your analysis of it! Likely Aegon's reign will be a bit rocky, though hopefully not more than he can handle... or rather learn to handle!

_**Review Response #3**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the comments! Well I'd rather leave that to you to decide, since it can be interpreted many ways. :)

_**Please Note**__: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot._


	12. Chapter 11 - Bleeding River

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 11: Bleeding River**

"We knew this was coming." Brynden Tully said plainly.

"Must you be so cold? To your own brother, uncle?" Catelyn Stark seemed hurt by how calm he was by the news.

"I agree sister." Lysa Arryn smiled cruelly. "You don't need to be so shocked over the news."

"Shocked? I'm appalled! Uncle, you and father had your differences but-"

"Enough Cat." Edmure sighed as he put an arm around his sister. "This is no time to have a family squabble."

"Oh Ed..." Catelyn sighed and held herself. She couldn't remember her father's face from years ago, all she pictured was the old dying man. Catelyn turned as the doors of the Tully dormitory opened, it had been empty besides them and there were instructions for them not to be disturbed. At first she was angry, but then when she saw King Aegon enter with Ser Barristan and two other Kingsguard as well as Lord Varys and Petyr Baelish, she wasn't sure what to think.

"Your Grace!" Edmure bowed as did Brynden while Catelyn and Lysa curtsied to the king.

"My apologizes for entering unannounced at such a time, but when I heard..." Aegon looked as sorrowful as they did, which Catelyn found a bit odd. "My deepest condolences for the loss of your father Lord Edmure, Lady Lysa, Lady Catelyn. And for your brother, Ser Brynden."

"Thank you, your Grace." Edmure bowed again.

"Please, no more formalities. I don't wish to trouble you during this time of grief." Aegon put up his hands and Edmure nodded.

"I also give my deepest condolences." Petyr Baelish spoke out. At first Edmure and Catelyn hadn't recognized him, not for certain anyways, but Lysa had the very instant he stepped in.

"You are kind Petyr." Lysa said with half a smile that lasted very briefly.

"He was like a father to me as well." Petyr smiled a little at her and then looked at Carelyn.

"I didn't expect to see you in King's Landing, Baelish." Brynden said unsure. The last time he saw Petyr he was in Riverrun ages ago, he had avoided seeing the dishonored boy in the Vale even as the clever man climbed the political ladder.

"Well I am the Master of Coin now, Ser." Petyr still smiled and it made Edmure uneasy, though Catelyn and Lysa seemed content with seeing the man they knew as a brother.

"Lord Edmure, I understand arrangements must be made." Aegon looked up at the new Tully Paramount. "I know we were to wait three more weeks before journeying north but I would like to depart on the morrow, to Riverrun. You should be able to honor your father, I will not hold you back from that."

"Your Grace..." Catelyn was now moved deeply by the young man's words, she tried not to cry but a tear strayed but she managed to keep herself together. She was more a wolf now than a fish after all.

"Thank you. That's very kind." Edmure cleared his throat and bowed his head.

"Yes, thank you." Lysa added after, though she seemed a bit distant as she spoke. Aegon nodded and lowered his head to them before he stepped out of the dormitory. Petyr Baelish stayed a moment longer, nodding to the four and smiling before he followed after the king. Brynden Tully ignored Baelish as he watched Varys, it seemed strange to him that the Spider had been keeping close to the king. Much closer in fact than normal since Aegon had recovered from his fever.

* * *

"You should sit with your sister in the wheelhouse, my love." Ned looked at his wife as they rode on horseback down the King's Road. The entire march was dressed for mourning, even the Kingsguard wore black cloaks instead of white in respect to the late Lord Hoster Tully.

"No. I need the air. I need..." Catelyn didn't want to say she needed to be away from her sister, that would be admitting defeat to her sister's newly found cynical nature. Had the years really taken such a toll on Lysa? '_All she deems worthy of her time is her son. A mother must love her children... but we ourselves are children._'

"If it does you good, dearest." Ned did not know how to comfort her. The mourning of his father was spent on the battlefield during Robert's Rebellion. And that had cost him his close friend when Rhaegar cut down the Stag. Yet in the end, Rhaegar brought peace to the realm and his son was following slowly in his footsteps.

"Must the king stay in Riverrun?" Catelyn looked to her husband finally. "It would be better suited for His Grace to continue northward with you."

"The king wishes to see your father put to rest, he wants to see your brother placed securely as Paramount of the Riverlands." Ned reassured her, though he knew that she didn't want Jon Snow to be near her any more than need be. And Lord Stark knew of the nasty rumors going across the kingdoms about Snow, and about the king making him a squire.

"The king is too kind." Catelyn almost snapped at her husband but soon she began to cry into her palm.

Wolf, Falcon, Trout and Dragon banners flew amongst the companies with the king behind the Wolf and Trout, followed by the Falcon. Around them were several scouts and riders ensuring that none approached without warning, Jon Arryn especially seemed paranoid about security. The three Jon's: Connington, Snow and Arryn often conversed late into the night over patrol routes and plans to keep King Aegon in comfort but more especially safe.

Before his Nameday, King Aegon had not stepped foot outside of the Red Keep more than a few times and never beyond the walls of King's Landing. Now he could barely imagine being trapped inside his castle ever again. And he felt safe leaving Tyrion Lannister as Lord Protector in his stead, especially since Varys was keeping a careful watch on Prince Viserys as well as making sure the princesses and the Queen Mother were safe.

Every lord surrendered their keep, each inn empties its rooms, great encampments were erected for a night's time with haste, and the king slept soundly every night. Aegon's days were spent admiring the countryside, talking to local lords and tavern owners, traveling bards and merchants, and hedge knights much to the concern of Jon Arryn. The king spent his evenings dining with his hosts as well as the Paramount Lords, enjoying himself extensively even though he did his best to restrain himself in this time of mourning.

And far from the other would-be-brides, Sansa kept the king company during the feasts, letting him better his dance with her. She was splendid to be around, Aegon admitted it once or twice, but he could not bring himself to find her interesting. Sansa always wanted to know about him, know more about the Targaryens or the Red Keep yet he could get very little out of her besides that she loves to sew and promised to make him something else all by herself. The wolf cloak sat in a chest on its own, Aegon would need it when he ventured to the Wall certainly.

His time with Lady Sansa was noticed indeed by many, and so much so that when there was actually time for Aegon to practice his swordplay, Syrio and Arya were no where to be seen. That hardly held Aegon back as he would spar against Robb Stark and Jon Snow, happy to be among boys his own age.

"You still move too much." Snow pointed his sword to Aegon's feet, grinning at him as the king stumbled up.

"You're so brutal." The king grumbled.

"Oh you'll get used to it, your Grace." Robb laughed. "It's a Stark trait to be cold."

"So I've come to learn. The hard way at that."

"Shall we go again?" Snow asked as he readied himself. The dance of the knight was far different than the dance that Syrio had been teaching the king, he felt confused and unsure especially with his footwork. Syrio spoke of speed, Robb told him to be firm.

"You two go. I need to watch more I think." Aegon moved to the side and sat on a bench near Bran, glancing over to watch Rickon chase Shaggydog.

"You'll get better." Aegon looked to Bran as he spoke, watching the boy kick his feet against the dirt. "I mean... your Grace."

"Thank you for the encouragement. I think I'll need it."

"No one's born a master swordsman. Not everyone can be shown either. Experience is the best teacher."

"And who taught you that?"

"Father. I mean... Lord Stark. I want to be an archer, a swordsman. Like Bloodraven."

"Bloodraven? I have to say that's the first I've heard of such an aspiration."

"Do you hear of many? Uh.. sorry, I mean have you.."

"Brandon, you don't need to be afraid of me." Aegon smiled to the boy. "No one's able to talk to me like this except for your brothers and sister."

"We're not used to so many rules. Father says the old way is about honor and tradition. The new way is full of ways to chain a man."

"Your father again. I should try and listen to him more. He's very wise."

"Was your father wise, your Grace?" Bran stopped watching Robb and Snow to look at Aegon who had taken a turn at watching the two spar.

"I'm not sure. I don't always remember him. Some people say he was kind, some say he stole a woman and began a great war."

"Father's sister..."

"Your father was a great man, your Grace." Aegon and Bran turned to see Ned Stark standing there, watching his sons work up a good sweat.

"That's kind of you to say, Lord Stark." Aegon looked to the sparring once more as Snow was knocked to the ground by his brother.

"Kind perhaps but it's the honest truth." Ned sighed softly. "Whatever issue I had with the Bard King died with him. He was a great man who loved his people, even those who raised the sword to him."

"I'm glad you think so." Aegon stood up and brushed off his black cape.

"You can ask Lord Arryn the same." Ned said as he watched the king walk away down the dirt path that went through the camp. Snow was laughing with Robb, though he quickly sheathed his sword and ran after the king.

"Is he angry?" Bran asked, standing to look up at his father as Robb came over.

"What's gotten into His Grace?" Robb as well looked to his father.

"Angry, no. Just sad." The Wolf grimaced, watching the king until he disappeared behind some tents before looking to his boys. "Even a king can be sad."

"I don't like him being sad." Bran muttered, his father putting his hand on the boy's head.

"Nor do I, my boy."

* * *

"Your Grace!" Snow called after Aegon as he hurried to catch up to him.

"Leave me alone Snow."

"What's gotten into you?"

"I'm going riding." Aegon turned around and went by Jon and turned a corner to go to where the horses were being tended to.

"I'll go with you."

"Not necessary, I can go alone."

"It's my duty, your Grace."

"It's the duty of the Kingsguard." Aegon snapped back at him, making Snow stop to let the king go on without him.

"So your offer to let me join?"

"It's..." The king stopped and sighed, putting his hand to his forehead. "I'm sorry Jon, I'm just tired. Of course you can come with me, you will be one of my Kingsguard soon enough."

"You're so tense, what's gotten into you?" Snow walked to stand beside Aegon, looking down at him.

"I just don't like to talk or hear about my father, that's all."

"I understand."

"Do you? Truly Snow I don't think you do."

"Every time someone mentions Lord Stark, I get a look and someone mutters 'oh, and there's his bastard'." Jon frowned. "I think I understand better than anyone what it's like to live in your father's shadow just because of how great a man he is or was."

"I'm sorry... I wasn't thinking. Like I said, I'm tired, I need to ride and get some air." The king said as he walked again to the horses with Jon following.

"You need to stop being sorry, your Grace. You're the king now, no one can judge you for the burdens you carry."

"That's not the kind of king I want to be, exempt from judgment just because I was born the Dragon. Let them call me Aegon the Little, now I know what Lord Baelish means when he says to make your own name."

Riding from the camp, the pair had their horses gallop across the plains of the Riverlands away from the banners. Soon they would be along the Trident where the Strong Stag was slain by the Bard King years ago, a place Aegon never imagined he would see with his own eyes. Past the scouts and stray riders, Snow and the king rode hard for more than a half hour in one direction, they didn't know where they were going and didn't seem to care. Aegon enjoyed the wind rushing across him, his hair dancing behind him, let loose so he could have such a moment to feel free.

By the time the pair were far from the camp, the Kingsguard were alerted to the king's departure and the camp soon was in a frenzy. Eddard Stark sent out additional scouts as did Arryn and Tully while the Kingsguard mounted and rode out after their liege. All except for Jaime Lannister who remained at the camp, not having moved much during the frenzy, standing around with his usual smug, satisfied smile on his face.

"I think this is far enough." Snow called as they rode uphill. "The horses need rest, your Grace."

"We can stop on top, I want to know if we can see the Trident from here." Aegon said as they made it to the summit of the large hill, a cliff-side perch that gave quite a view. Though nothing more than forests and a plain could be seen, they were just too far from anything. Dismounting from his tired steed, Aegon walked over to the cliff to try to see at least Maidenpool if not the mouth of the Trident, but to no avail.

"Is this enough air for you?" Jon asked as he got off his horse, holding both by their reins.

"It's more than enough. It's amazing to be here." Aegon stretched, he was disappointed by the view but he loved being away from cities and camps for once.

"You do know they're going to string me up for not saying anything."

"Oh let them string you, I'll cut you down." Aegon looked back and smirked at Jon who shook his head. The smiles were short-lived as Aegon felt the ground give out under him, the edge of the cliff crumbling down, giving him only a second to grab the rock in front of him. Snow was fast to dash towards the edge while the king grabbed desperately at the soft stone that gave out each time he grasped at it. Jon laid flat over the cliff and grabbed Aegon by both his arms.

"Your Grace! Hold on!" Jon shouted as he tried to lift the king up, he managed to heave him a bit but soon the cliff gave out again and Snow began to slide as his chest now hung over the side while he held Aegon. Looking down, it was hardly a short fall and while it wasn't a certainty they would perish, the chances of death were not absent either. Jon held still as did Aegon, neither wanting to make the cliff shift anymore, but they both knew that Snow couldn't hold the king up forever.

"Oh my king!" Jon couldn't see who it was, only heard a woman's voice. Aegon watched red-silk robed arms reach down and grab him with Snow. "And pull with all your might now."

The cliff gave out as the two pulled the king up, dragging him in the dirt as they moved back. While Snow was strong, he felt like the woman did all the work as she lifted Aegon up to safety and stepped him away from the soft stone edge. Snow and Aegon panted, trembling from the experience while the woman stood over them as they sat on the ground. Soon rising, Aegon brushed himself off and helped Jon up before they both looked at the woman. Fiery hair, silk robes of blood and passionate eyes looking down at the boys, standing taller than Jon with a slender figure and full chest.

"Greetings, my king. I am Melisandre."

* * *

"Your Grace!" Ser Connington called out on one side of the plain, on the other Ser Barristan was doing much the same as scouts worked with each Kingsguard to search for Aegon and Snow. The sun was going down and still there was no sighting of the king. By nightfall, even Jon Connington was forced to return to the camp.

Arguments broke out amongst the banners and Kingsguard, Lord Stark was the favored target of Connington. Ser Jon was so angry that he was soon ready to draw swords against anyone, but before it could come to that, a horn sounded and word spread that King Aegon had returned. The lords and knights hurried to greet the king, the Kingsguard lined up as Aegon rode in on his steed with Jon Snow riding beside him, and with hands around the king's waist was the Red Priestess.

"Your Grace! Thank the Gods!" Jon Connington looked as if all the world was made right and that Rhaegar would not be furious with him.

"My king." Lord Stark bowed to Aegon as he approached then looked to his son. "We were _very_ worried."

"I know my lord. I apologize." Aegon answered, as he watched the eyes of blame fall equally on himself and on Jon Snow. "I commanded your son not to say a word as we went riding. I was adequately protected."

"Your Grace!" Connington protested. "He is only a squire!"

"You should not talk back to the king, Ser knight." The Red Priestess answered as she reached up to lower her hood. It was for the first time that anyone noticed the woman as Aegon dismounted his horse and then reached up to help her down. Snow got off his horse also and handed over both steeds to the stable boys.

"Who... is this?" Connington asked, glaring at the woman who so familiarly put her hand on the king's shoulder. "How..."

"This is Lady Melisandre." Aegon answered, though gave no more explanation than that as he walked with her on his arm and Jon Snow behind them, moving between the Kingsguard and lords. "Arrange a tent for the lady, she is my guest."

"As... you command... your Grace."

"The night is dark and full of terror, my lords, but the king ensures us to be safe." Melisandre chanted as she glanced back at the crowd.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: Soooo I figured since Stannis is busy making babies with Cersei, Melisandre needs to be elsewhere to throw in some interesting bits. Now before anyone jumps on the prophecy wagon, I already have much figured out in that regard and I'm going to make many people unhappy potentially since I will be changing some ideas (such as Dany being TPTWP, etc). It'll fit into things though, I promise! And sorry about the laaaate chapter, I'm struggling so much with writer's block, it's painful and tedious. Not to mention I love sharing this stories with you guys and gals, so it bums me out. Here's to future successful writing!

_**Review Response**_: To Mari, thank you for participating!

_**Review Response #2**_: To mbahgila21, thank you for participating!

_**Review Response #3**_: To Zirael07, thanks for participating, glad you enjoyed it :)

_**Review Response #4**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thank you for the review! And thank you for seeing my mistake, I corrected it immediately! Yes Viserys is quite mad, just as a birthright but also from someone feeding him ideas of power, makes him a bit more crazed I think. While it is possible for a Targaryen to have Green Dreams, it seems more common that they have Dragon Dreams, so I'm still on the fence if I want to do any of that, or merely make it much more vague.

_**Review Response #5**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks for participating!

_**Review Response #6**_: To Aishanirocks, thanks for the comment! It _could_ be because of RLJ, though not sure if Elia Martell would know about it, she might have an intuition about it though ;)

_**Review Response #7**_: To jedi-watchman1, thanks for participating!

_**Review Response #8**_: To Anon, thanks for participating!

_**Review Response #9**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the comment and participating!

_**Review Response #10**_: To Will, thanks for the review! I'm glad you think so, I am actually pretty heartless with characters, I just haven't shown it yet ;) Though no... I'm not as murderous as good ol' George. People will die though! Hopefully bad people...

_**Review Response #11**_: To rubini25, thanks for the review and the input! Your thoughts on Arya do remind me about her psyche and that I have to mind myself when writing scenes with her and Aegon :)

_**Review Response #12**_: To Guest, thanks for the comments and participating! Thank you! I tried to make it as pseudo-accurate as I could since really the coronation seems absent from SoIaF, so I tried to bring elements together and make it happen. And I can't imagine Aegon or Tyrion or anyone besides Elia and the councilors organizing this. Aegon would have nothing done, Tyrion would have naked women running around. Though Tyrion is respectful of the gods since his father raised him to be fearful of them, he just doesn't think much of them, I'm glad it was in-character for him :)

_**Review Response #13**_: To queensansa, thanks for the review! It may be Sansa, may be Arya, may be Arianne (yay cousins), may be anyone ;)

_**Review Response #14**_: To SnapesJapes, thanks for the comment and the participation! The activity will stay up awhile yet, I'll edit it out once it's done :) (And I'm going to be deleting 'Announcement' so if your review gets deleted, I'm so sorry :S )

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	13. Chapter 12 - Spider Webs

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 12: Spider Webs**

"Thank you Lord Sunglass." Tyrion repeated, not sure if sitting on the Iron Throne was more of a pain or the lords that stood before him were.

"My Lord Hand, this isn't a suggestion." The Lord of Sweetport Sound was not backing down, looking up at the Imp. "My ports cannot support the demands of the Gallant Dragon, it is not my duty to supply the vessel."

"Lord Guncer Sunglass, thank you." Tyrion waved his hand dismissingly but the lord refused to budge.

"I obey the king and in his stead you have no right-"

"You forget, I am Lord Protector while the king is away."

"That does not-"

"Lord Sunglass, Sweetport Sound will provide provisions to the Gallant Dragon on its way to White Harbor. If you do not comply, I will inform the king that it was you who failed to support his... glorious venture to the Wall and sea voyage safely back home. Are we in an understanding?"

"...Fine... Lord Hand, Sweetport Sound will provide, but not happily." Lord Guncer stepped back finally.

"Noted... Next!" Tyrion rang out, one of the lords approached but stopped as the doors opened and the Dowager Queen strolled in with her entourage of ladies and knights. Tyrion slipped off the Iron Throne and bowed to her as she neared. The queen-mother had retired her golden tiara for a simpler gold circlet with tiny amber stones, though she still wore fine dresses of gold and red, with rubies and gold chain adorning her attire. Ever since the weight of ruling had been given to her son, Dowager Queen Elia was ill much less often which was pleasant and welcoming for some, though not quite so for others.

"Lord Tyrion!" Elia seemed in a foul mood, something the Little Lion was becoming accustomed to since he had assumed authority.

'_Sweet gods have mercy on me_.' Tyrion let out a soft sigh before putting on a smile. "My queen, how may I serve you?"

"Why do I hear you have taken charge of the Gallant Dragon? That is my son's... the king's personal ship!" Elia stood before him, poised and dignified, a better day for her than most.

"My queen, I have been preparing the Gallant Dragon for departure, it must leave within a fortnight if it is to be ready for the king at any given time." Tyrion tried to speak calmly, holding his tongue several times.

"Truly? And do you as well believe me to be a fool? House Martell outfitted the Gallant Dragon completely before it was given to the king!"

"My queen, that was nearly two months past. And King's Landing does not have the supplies to simply restock the ship and therefore-"

"Therefore you prey on coastal villages and ports. What game do you play my lord?"

"None, my queen. I simply wish for the king to have a smooth return. And to do that, the Gallant Dragon needs supplies."

"And by what accounts do you believe the capitol cannot afford supplies, for a ship no less." Elia frowned up at Tyrion, eyes locked on him even as Petyr Baelish stepped forward from his small desk.

"My queen... King's Landing has been deeply burdened with the extended stay of all the Paramount Lords and their parties, many days of tournament, endless feasts and dances, and a grand coronation. The city stores are simply empty, we barely have enough to feed the common folk."

"You dare say that I emptied King's Landing, Little Finger? Hm?"

"No, no my queen." Baelish was calm, smiling still, but he was unaccustomed to a woman make demands of him. "Simply it's been mismanaged... by the old Master of Coin and the old Hand of the King."

"Mismanaged? How dare you."

"My queen-"

"Enough." Elia held up a hand, looking at Baelish to quiet him then to Tyrion to keep him silent as well. "I have heard enough. My lords, I will speak to the king of this matter the next time I see him. I pray that you do keep accounts in order for my son will not rest until he roots out any misdeeds or corruption."

"As you say, my queen." Tyrion made a face and the queen-mother glared.

"Do not mock me Lannister." She turned and with her ladies left the same way she came, dramatically.

* * *

"My Lord Hand!" Tyrion heard the Spider call but it only make him walk down the corridor faster, of course Varys caught up with great ease. The Hand had just left the Great Hall and was hoping for a few moments of peace and quiet, alas the gods were cruel. "My lord, I was wondering if you had a moment."

"What is it Varys?"

"Well as you know, Prince Viserys is becoming rather troublesome, these past three months especially."

"And what of it? A mad man does as he will."

"That's the problem, my lord, he's asked permission to travel from the city."

"Problem? I say good riddance." Tyrion hummed out.

"The problem is that he wants to go to Dragonstone." Varys explained which made the Little Lion stop in his tracks. He tried not to look suspicious, but no one fooled the Spider.

"I fail still to see the problem."

"Oh my dear lord. It would not be so were it not for the treasure there." Varys smiled, and Tyrion tried not to look more surprised than he already was.

"You're well-informed as usual."

"Thank you my lord, I fear though that this time knowledge is not enough. With Ser Connington and Ser Barristan gone, it seems only you and I know details. Or at least are supposed to. And it seems those details may have been... shall we say, leaked out of the circle."

"Leaked? To who? How?"

"Not even I know where every whisper travel." Varys gave a slight shrug and began to walk alongside Tyrion as the little man gestured to follow.

"And the venom? Or better yet the arrow?"

"The arrow no, certainly there is nothing to go on. The venom however, I do believe I know who tried to kill our king."

"Can you give me a name?"

"Oh not here my lord, this is such a name that even mentioned could rattle the kingdoms."

"That serious? Hm."

"Serious indeed."

"And Princess Rhaenys?"

"If you mean where does the princess wander to from time to time, I have no way of tracking her. She knows more about shadows than one might think." Varys answered, seeming quite happy knowing one of the Targaryens was clever and sneaky.

"She was absent during the tournament."

"Do you think she may have something to do with the assassinations?"

"No. She loves her brother more than I love my drink and giant teats combined."

"You have a way with words, Lord Tyrion."

"Yes, so I'm told... Can we trust the sailors of the Gallant Dragon?"

"So many topics today, my lord, I do enjoy catching you in a talkative mood." Varys smirked down at the man who raised his brows in return.

"I like confirming my own reports."

"So then, can we... trust the sailors?"

"No, too many loyal to House instead of crown."

"Then your reports are false, with all due respect my lord."

"Oh? How so?"

"You see Captain Seawood is a man that-"

"Seawood? What in the seven hells..."

"His actual name is Dongar Sand, but you didn't hear that from me."

"Of course. No House likes to boast its bastards."

"Yes well, as captain of the Gallant Dragon you can imagine that he has quite a bit of influence with Prince Doran Martell for receiving such a position."

"A man loyal to House instead of crown, isn't that what I said?"

"Ah, but his men are loyal to him and not to House or to crown. Captain Seawood is a man that is tough but fair with his men, and they love him for it."

"And that makes it all better. Praise the Seven!" Tyrion cheered sarcastically.

"Oh come now my lord, you yourself are a servant of House Lannister but are a loyal subject of the king."

"As you keep reminding me. Yes fine, if Seawood can be brought to the king's aid I see no issue. However I fear that this is all some glorified trap."

"It is, my lord, it sadly is. The venom and this sea-worthy trap are gifts from the same person."

"Why though? Seems an awful lot of trouble for little effect."

"Yes, I can't figure it out either. In all blatant speakings, King Aegon is much better a puppet than Prince Viserys would be, though then again we know how that turned out for your dear father."

"He hasn't forgiven me yet for replacing him as Hand to the King."

"I'm so sorry to hear that, my lord."

"Yes well, I enjoy this game. I didn't think I would but I do."

"Oh and you're very good at it, my lord."

"And the queen-mother hates me."

"And the queen-mother hates you. She does dislike being second best, always has."

"Rhaegar Targaryen started that, not me."

"Best not to say that to her." Varys shook his head, stopping as they came to the passage toward the royal apartments. "I will leave you my Lord Hand, I wish you well and I do hope you enjoy luncheon with the princesses. That is if both show up."

"How did you..." Tyrion began but went quiet as he watched the Spider smile.

"Good day to you, my lord." Varys bowed a bit before trailing down another corridor, leaving Tyrion to walk up the stairs to the apartments.

* * *

"Lord Tyrion!" Daenerys smiled as the half-man walked into the solar, two ladies were already serving the princess. Daenerys had her hair up behind her head, with strands dangling from the bun, small silver pins sticking out of it with dragon-heads on the ends. She wore a lilac dress that brought out her eyes, with a silver ruby necklace around her neck and small silver chains around her wrists. In the soft light, with the sun approaching noon slowly, she looked like an angel.

"My lovely princess, so kind of you to invite me here." Tyrion said with a bow. "Where is your royal niece?"

"She will be along shortly, she promised she would." While Daenerys said it with confidence, Tyrion had a feeling she didn't fully believe it herself.

"Well, the princess does have a great deal to keep her busy, being sister to the king and all." He took a seat across from Daenerys and sat back as servants brought him his first two dishes and a cup of wine. "I suppose the king will find her a groom soon enough, and you as well. You must be excited."

"Oh... well the king hasn't mentioned that at all. I'm happy as I am. So is Rhaenys, I think."

"What about me? Pardon me dear aunt, but my ears burn with the sound of gossip." Rhaenys had slipped in quietly, Tyrion turned his head before standing to greet her.

"My dear princess, how nice to see you again."

"I so wish to say the same my lord." Rhaenys said with a smile, allowing him to kiss her hand. "Though I must say you are causing quite the amount of trouble in the court."

"Trouble?" Daenerys asked as the two took their seats, maidens hurrying to serve Princess Rhaenys her dishes. Tyrion took note that they were much more rushed to serve the elder princess than the younger or himself. While Daenerys was the imagine of innocence, Rhaenys was the portrait of strength. Her gown was black and red, her House colors of course, with dangling ruby earrings and a slender silver tiara on her head. While the dress had little pattern to it, it did bare much gold embroidery with rubies stitched into the fabric.

"Yes it seems Lord Tyrion is commanding all the lords with some brutality." Rhaenys said as she began to eat.

"Brutality princess? I like to call it being firm." He smiled, as much as the princess was scornful of him, he quite liked her spirit. "Your royal brother requires supplies to reach home, I merely made some lords remember their duty."

"Is that how it is? Strange, I hadn't realized there was a difference between tyranny and remembrance of loyalty."

"Rhaenys!"

"Oh dear aunt, I'm sorry. This is a most unpleasant topic." The princess glanced at Tyrion as she brushed some of her brown locks from her face. To Tyrion, she looked quite amused, and he felt quite the same way. "Do forgive me, Lord Hand, I do not disrespect you. Merely I am unpleasant with anyone ruling my brother's kingdoms."

"The king did freely name me Lord Protector in his stead." Tyrion reminded her as he sipped his wine.

"Perhaps, so too claimed the last Hand of the King."

"Ah, I see now. You think me to be my father's son."

"Are you not, my lord? Or are you a bastard?"

"All dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes."

"Oh..." Rhaenys put her fork down, looking quite upset at having been so plain with Tyrion. He looked her in the eye and saw how regretful she was for bringing up such a supposedly hurtful topic. "My Lord Tyrion, I-"

"Oh it's nothing to be bothered about, my princess. Things are as they are. And life has so much to offer even for a man of my size." He smiled at her, and she tried to return one.

"Perhaps I misjudged you, my lord. I hope we can be friends."

"As do I, my princess." Tyrion smiled more, even if she didn't mean it.

"Rhaenys..." Daenerys began as she took a bite of her food. "Do you think Aegon will marry us off?"

"Of course dear aunt." Rhaenys answered quickly, a bit too quickly. "We will be given to high-born noble lords. Perhaps to the Baratheons or the Starks, the king seems quite fond of the Northfolk. He's becoming more like my father than anyone is realizing."

"More like... Oh Rhae..."

"So Lord Tyrion, will you be accepting your sister's invitation?" Rhaenys looked to the Little Lion, ignoring her aunt and abruptly changing the subject.

"I haven't made my decision yet, princess." Tyrion was beginning to feel awkard, downing the rest of his wine and getting it refilled.

"Does your sister usually invite you to Storm's End to see her newborn?"

"I can't say she ever has before. Though I daresay that Lord Stannis will be insulted if I don't go." Tyrion sighed.

"Perhaps it is because your brother is unable to go this time. I heard he was with your sister each time she gave birth while Stannis busied himself with hunting or drilling the guard."

"They are twins, her pain is his pain I suppose, and her happiness is his happiness."

"A shame Ser Jaime is in Riverrun." Rhaenys pushed away the small dish in front of her, half-eaten.

"Yes, as you say my princess..." Tyrion drank down his wine as soon as the cup was refilled, feeling the pressure from the quick-tongued girl rattle him. Worse yet, he couldn't quite so simply insult her... could he?

"I hope your sister has a girl!" Daenerys broke the long silence, smiling over at Tyrion who returned it.

'_Thank the gods for you, sweet princess_.'

* * *

Tyrion walked through the corridors, the sun setting as the long day was finally over. At least for everyone else, not for the Hand. Audiences in the morning, dining with the princesses just before noon, buried under paperwork and accounts, more audiences before supper. And worse yet, a raven baring the king's mark. He knew he just had to look around, surely the Spider would find him easily enough.

"My Lord Hand." And right on cue, Tyrion stopped and turned to see Lord Varys step out of the shadows.

"You do know where to find me. Come." The Little Lion said as they pair walked in silence to the Tower of the Hand, up the many stairs until they got to the Office of the Hand.

"So you must know as much as I." Tyrion said after the door was locked, the curtain was drawn and he sat at his desk before pouring two glasses of wine.

"Not quite, but nearly. May I see the letter?" Varys asked and Tyrion held it out before the eunuch finished. The Spider anxiously took the scroll and unrolled it after checking the sigil, reading the contents slowly.

"Just as suspected." Varys finally announced.

"Yes, I agree. It's not the king's hand. Strange enough for him to send word were it not important."

"A woman has written this." The Spider handed the note back to Tyrion who made a queer face as he re-read the letter.

"How can you tell?"

"Very delicate writing in some parts, but firmly pressing down at others to promote masculinity. The king may be poor with a sword, but he has most excellent and more importantly, consistent handwriting."

"So who wrote it then? And why order Dragonstone to be put under a heavier guard? Surely the king is unaware of the situation, and also whoever wrote this should be uninformed as well."

"This woman seems clever, and seems to potentially know what is being hidden at Dragonstone." Varys sighed softly, leaning back into his chair. "Yet why not get the king to write the letter instead? She appears to have access to his sigil stamp."

"Perhaps she doesn't want him to know?"

"Perhaps, but why demand protection for the treasure in the king's name?"

"I... I don't know."

"There are only two possibilities. Either she knows or she thinks she knows and wants confirmation."

"So you're saying it's a trick?"

"It may well be. And with Prince Viserys wanting to visit Dragonstone... this worries me a great deal. How many could possibly know about this? Our foreign friends went to such hardships to ensure secrecy too."

"And sending a letter to the king may risk having this stranger read it."

"Especially since we know not if this be friend or foe."

"Seven hells..." Tyrion leaned onto the desk.

"And it seems your family wants you in Storm's End, away from the capitol..."

"How... Nevermind. Everyone bloody knows that Cersei has invited me on behalf of her husband to celebrate the birth of her child, due anytime now." Tyrion threw his hands up. "Someone's pulling strings and I don't like it one bit... Wait, my family?"

"Yes, your sister wrote the letter but your father asked her to, though I'm sure she already had the idea in her head."

"My father... are you saying that-"

"I'm saying that if you go to Storm's End, Lord Stannis will throw you in a cell leaving no Protector of the Realm sitting on the Iron Throne with the king far in the North, a month's journey from King's Landing. Your sister will murder Stannis and proclaim her son Joffrey as the legitimate heir to the Baratheon titles while assassins hunt down King Aegon. When Viserys has gone to Dragonstone, he too will be murdered, leaving Joffrey as the so-alleged rightful heir to the Iron Throne by line of his Targaryen great-grandmother. He will be wed to one of the princesses and the other will simply disappear."

"...You truly frighten me sometimes Varys." Tyrion seemed more phased by the Spider's knowledge than the actual plot.

"Thank you my lord, I take that as a compliment."

"So are you're sure that my family is the House that's planning to overthrow the Targaryens?"

"No, my lord... Your family is one of the Houses planning to overthrow the Targaryens."

"Oh Seven be damned! Does everything have to go to shit all the time?"

"Sadly it seems so. Your sister is terrible at covering her tracks. Prince Doran Martell however..."

"So he is behind the venom and the scheme with the Gallant Dragon."

"Indeed. He laced the gold thread of the cloak with a serpent's venom which leached into the king causing his illness, saved ironically by an arrow trying to kill him. The venom did not tarnish the gold and was not absorbed by it, a perfect plan nearly."

"And my father hired someone to shoot that arrow, unaware of the assassination plot already underway."

"There is no evidence to such, anyone wanting the king dead could have had that arrow fired. Anyone but the Martells."

"So what can we do?"

"Well there is evidence against the Lannisters, but very little on the Martells. And worse yet, my lord, I have no idea what Prince Doran hopes to achieve by killing the king. His own nephew at that."

"He seemed so protective of the boy." Tyrion sighed.

"An act, I'm afraid."

"So who do we trust among the Martells?"

"The Red Viper."

"Oberyn Martell? That man would kill us all if given half a chance!"

"Maybe so, but unlike his older brother, he loves his sister and nephew more than power. Much more. If we can, I suggest we let Prince Oberyn have a word with Captain Seawood."

"A word with him?"

"If he can overcome Seawood, the men of the Gallant Dragon will be at our disposal instead of Prince Doran's."

"This can go very badly, you do realize that I hope?"

"Everything can go very badly, my lord." Varys stood up slowly. "It's all a matter of faith."

"I have never heard you to be a man of faith." Tyrion looked up at him in disbelief.

"Every man must have some faith. In gods, in ploys, in the king or simply in himself." Varys smiled and bowed his head.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: Well my writer's block seems to be smoothing out but I don't want to say it's gone just yet. Is it weird that I love Varys so much? So the plot it out in the open!... Or mostly at least, still we (meaning you ;) ) don't know why Prince Doran wants to kill Aegon. Simple throne seize? Or something more? And does it seem like Tyrion enjoys the company of princesses a bit much? Don't suppose he'd be getting a crush on Rhaenys... he is a man who likes to be pushed around a bit by women. Remember to review or Cersei will... get babyjuice all over you! I wonder how big her belly is, she's such a tiny thing I'm sure she'd fall over with a pregnant stomach.

_**Review Response**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks for the review! Poor Melisandre, she's a knight of sorts too you know! Just... you know... crazy and flaming and shadow-babying and... yeah. Well you asked, here's a Tyrion chapter, hope it's a bit more up to par :) It actually was good for a lot of reasons, I had planned to do an Elia chapter but well... Tyrion is more fun.

_**Review Response #2**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the comments! Melisandre is just going to get a handful of flaming manure and throw it at a fan I'm sure... or maybe she'll be nice and not so... freaky. And I so want to rip Jaime Lannister's pretty face off, but that would be bad for plot. And volia, now you know somewhat about whose trying to kill Aegon! Not much, but it gives a big picture to the Lannister side of things. There's still the Martells and potentially others?

_**Review Response #3**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the review! Well actually I kept that canon that Eddard Stark went to the Tower of Joy to get his sister, regardless that Rhaegar killed Robert, he likely still wanted to rescue his sister. So sadly Arthur Dayne and the others are gone :( Buuuut if I had kept them, Aegon would have had a really strong powerhouse and no one would mess with him... that wouldn't be a great story perhaps ;)

_**Review Response #4**_: To rubini25, thanks for the comment! Yes Melisandra is a burst of fire or something in any plot, hopefully not too many get burned!

_**Review Response #5**_: To Zirael07, thanks for the review! Glad you enjoyed their talk, was hoping it'd give a bit more insight into Aegon's psyche :)

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. **And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series.** Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	14. Chapter 13 - Red Fire in Winterfell

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Red Fire in Winterfell**

"I can't even say the words properly."

"Oh my king, you fret too much." Melisandre assured him as they rode side by side. "You know Valyrian tongue quite well, just over time with no use for it, your tongue has lazed."

"Still. I don't think I can do fire magic." Aegon wanted to believe he could, one of his dream-selves had been working on it. Though he'd never admit to that.

"Fire is in your blood, my king. You are the Dragon, you have the power. Simply you must learn to harness it. We've only had less than a fortnight's worth of practice, you must be patient."

"Perhaps so, but fire magic is a thing of legend in Westeros."

"In Westeros." Melisandre repeated, smiling at him.

"Your Grace!" Aegon glanced back as Jon Snow rode up to them, nodding his head to the Red Priestess. "Winterfell is close, I thought we could ride to see it together."

"The king is tired." Melisandre answered before Aegon could even move his lips. "My dear, dear boy. You are so beautiful in your friendship with the king, you do well in his service. I hope that you always remain faithful to him."

"Faithful?" Snow was taken aback, looking to Aegon and then back to the priestess. "I would no sooner betray my own brothers than serve falsely to my king."

"I did not say you would. I merely remarked on being faithful, not loyal." Melisandre looked Jon Snow in the eye, he did not like her or her word games. More and more Aegon was found conversing with the priestess since they left Riverrun, and even there he had at times disappeared to speak with her. Reigning his horse, Snow left their company and fell back behind them with Melisandre watching still for a moment.

Winterfell soon came into sight, the towering fortress of the North that shadowed the lands and bared witness to times long gone. Aegon was quite in awe of it, such a size and such a style of castle, he could hardly believe his eyes. Words written in a book were one thing to behold, but this, this truly was a marvel. The Wolf and Dragon banners paraded to its gates, dipping down to enter the Stark home, and all the castle stood in the great courtyard awaiting them. At Riverrun, the size of the castle had restricted them, but here, there was no such issue.

"My king, welcome to Winterfell!" Eddard Stark rode to the king's side as they rode into the courtyard, all the servants and guards bowing down onto one knee. Aegon dismounted along with the Wolf, Kingsguard, knights and all, standing within Winterfell, the prime of the North. Melisandre remained by Aegon the entire time, as Lord Stark walked the king by the kneeling subjects towards the entrance to the great castle.

"I've come to notice you enjoy reading late into the night, so I made sure plenty of candles have been set aside in your room, my king." Eddard said as he looked down at Aegon.

"Fire is a thing of beauty, you are kind to provide it to His Grace." Melisandre spoke softly as she looked at Lord Stark who lost his the look of relief to be home.

"Lady Melisandre. Leave us." Aegon looked up at her, while she was mildly surprised, the Red Priestess obeyed without a word.

"I do not trust a woman like that, your Grace."

"You need not trust her, Lord Stark, only tolerate her. She is my guest."

* * *

Jon Snow unsaddled his horse and handed it over to the stable boys, strapping his sword belt on properly as he watched Hodor run to greet Brandon and Rickon. Before he had a chance to look to his belt, the imagine of red was before him and he knew. Glancing into Melisandre's eyes, he made no expression as he stood there, un-phased and unmoving before her. The air seemed still and silent around them as their eyes locked, neither one blinking as she smiled and he remained without feeling in his face. Soon enough, the cool air stung his eyes and Snow finally blinked and turned away from her.

"Your soul is deep. I see a burning inside of you, ice so cold that it becomes hot like fire." She said, following after him as he walked away.

"Leave me priestess. I do not follow your ways."

"Nor do you follow the king's ways, yet you stay in his company." He turned to watch her speak, grimacing as he sighed.

"I do not disrespect your religion nor the Seven, but I do not have to enjoy your company as I enjoy my king's."

"Enjoy... your king's company?" Melisandre smirked and Jon furrowed his brows.

"Careful what you imply woman!"

"Oh woman now am I? Do you finally see beyond my silks? Is that what you imagine late in the night, my dear... virgin boy?"

"Enough. I have duties." Jon turned again and walked quickly from her, but was compelled to stop as she spoke again.

"Duties? What duties? You are home. And the king is in the safest place he could ever be. No enemy will breach these walls, move beyond great swords or the shadows of R'hllor."

"Shadows? I thought you served a lord of light?" Jon glanced back, confused by her words.

"There are no shadows in the dark. Shadows are the servants of light, the children of fire. The brightest flame casts the darkest shadows." She smiled at him. "The king is well protected, in a night that will become endless."

"You speak in riddles and you speak and speak and speak. Are you never silent woman?" Jon spat.

"Do you only see a woman, boy of snow?"

"...I see an ambitious woman who pulls on the ear of my king."

"Again, your king?"

"He is everyone's king!" Jon snapped at her.

"Oh he reigns over the world now? Over the moon and sun, rain and summer? Even the winters come only when he commands it? Oh dear boy of snow, he is king of men. And if those men are not strong, what should the king stand upon if no one will be able to uphold his greatness?"

"Woman-... Lady Melisandre, speak the truth... Please. What do you want?" He turned to her, resting his hand on his sword as he watched behind her as things were unloaded.

"The truth is all around you, plain to behold. The night is dark and full of terrors, the day bright and beautiful and full of hope. One is black, the other white. There is ice and there is fire. Hate and love. Bitter and sweet. Male and female. Pain and pleasure. Winter and summer. Evil and good. Death and life. Everywhere, opposites. Everywhere, the war."

"War? What war? Westeros has been at peace for years since Robert the Strong Stag was killed at the Trident!"

"And does your father rest down the sword in his heart? Does the new Stag rest his vengeance? Oh sweet boy of snow, you do not know such things. Of the fire that will come, burning bright like the sun to consume... to cleanse... And you shall see, arisen from salt and smoke as the flames devour the wicked and deliver the virtuous."

"...Who are you? Truly?"

"A knight." Melisandre smiled and made a very small curtsy.

"A knight?"

"Of sorts. A knight comes in more forms than blade and armor."

"Knights are true and good."

"Oh I am good, I am." She smiled still, it was a warm one and Jon worried as he found comfort in it.

"My lady. If I ask one question of you, will you speak plain? Just once."

"Yes." She said after a few moments of silence, staring into his eyes once more. "On condition."

"Condition? What is it?"

"That you hold the king in your arms in the most dark, cold night."

"What? What are you impl-"

"On this most dark and cold night, a dream will wander from beyond. Far will it travel and dangerous it will be. When icy eyes stare at the Dragon and grasp its throat, when flames burn death itself and consume all sanity. A voice, a laughter not of this world will echo. It must be smothered."

"And I am to... smother it?" Jon asked, trying to follow.

"Yes. You will hold the king close, hold him dearly, tenderly. Love him as your own blood. Love him as your king. Let his skin press to yours, be his warmth. Hold him. Caress him. And let the foreign voice die out."

"I don't... understand." Jon said, not realizing he was blushing.

"You shall. Do you agree to this term? For a question that I would answer... plainly."

"How can I agree to something I don't-"

"Do not think, boy of snow. Act. You will know, when it happens."

"...Fine. I agree, for the sake of the king, I agree."

"Good." Melisandre said as she walked to him, slipping her arm around his. Somehow, almost naturally he lifted his arm to escort her as they strolled through the courtyard. They seemed to move in unison, much as Aegon had with her throughout the days but the king never stared at her, Jon did. Though when she glanced at him, he looked away quickly.

"I... was going to ask about why you're teaching the king... fire magic... but..."

"You want to know your own destiny."

"Yes- I mean no, I just want to know how... what am I supposed to do?" He asked, she stopped and turned him towards her, brushing the hair from his face. They stood under one of the arches of the walls that connected the courtyard with one of the training grounds. It was dim with the shadows all around them, seeming to shift and move, the stone was cold but it was as if there was a warmth around them.

"You are a champion. You will not come from salt or smoke, yet instead from the ice will you be forged. And the fire inside of you will come alive, and thwart your enemies. A celestial choir will sing your part of the hymn. And you will-"

"Enough. I don't want to hear this anymore." Jon pulled away as her face neared his. "Why are you teaching the king about fire magic?"

"You already asked a question of me."

"You did not answer it plain. Now answer this." He stepped back and drew his sword.

"What's this?" She asked, taking a step forward but stopped as the blade tip rose to her neck. Slowly Melisandre raised her hands.

"Why are you teaching the king... about fire magic?" Jon frowned. "Answer me!"

* * *

"It's not fair! I'm not tired, not really!" Sansa followed the septa around, carrying a blanket in her arms.

"The king needs rest as do we all. Most of us are not as young as you my dear." Septa Mordane replied, taking the blanket from the lady and setting it down.

"But I want to see him again! He was so busy in Riverrun, we only got to dance twice!"

"Oh sweet child, he will have time for you soon enough. He will be staying in Winterfell for some time. And then again when he returns from the Wall." The septa tried to reassure her.

"I think Aegon's being an idiot." Arya grumbled as she dropped two blankets onto the table, one falling onto the floor.

"Arya! You're being rude." Septa Mordane scolded her, reaching down to pick up the fallen blanket.

"I don't care if I'm being rude! Aegon isn't being himself."

"That's _King_ Aegon! Stop being so familiar with His Grace!" Sansa snapped.

"Stop being so lovesick with him..." Arya muttered back.

"I... you... Ugh! You're so stupid!"

"At least I'm not prancing after a boy like a dog."

"What did you call me?"

"I said you're a dog! A dog! Woof woof! Bark Sansa bark!" Arya shouted and the girls started slapping at each other.

"Girls! Girls!" The septa desperately tried to separate them.

"...Well now. That didn't take long." Robb said as he went by, Sansa stopping for a second to glance at Robb, giving Arya the chance to pull her hair. The girls screamed more as Septa Mordane scolded them louder and louder.

"You're so stupid! You're always so stupid! Go play with your dancing master! I hope you get lots of bruises!" Sansa shouted.

"Fine! I will! Even if I get bruises, I still won't look like the dog you are!" Arya shouted back before running out of the room.

"Arya!" The septa cried after her.

"Let her go... the girls need time apart. I think you two have been cooped up together for far too long." Robb shook his head.

"She started it!"

"You're older Sansa. She's our little sister."

"Well I don't like her."

"Of course you don't like her, you're sisters. You just have to love her."

"Well I don't."

"Sansa." Robb looked sternly at her.

"...I do, I do. I just hate when she acts like an animal."

"Says the dog." Robb laughed a bit.

"That's not funny!"

* * *

"...I hate her." Arya grumbled as she stormed down the stairs and ran through one of the great halls, out into a corridor, intending to go outside. In a huff, she didn't look where she was going and soon ran right into her father, and the king.

"Arya!" Eddard looked at his daughter, holding her by the shoulders. "My dear child... are you alright?"

"Lady Stark..." Aegon looked at her. Her face was red from frustration and now embarrassment, she panted softly and looked between the two quickly. This had been the first time she'd been so close to Aegon since Riverrun, and for most of the trip. While he looked at her with concern, she stumbled back and glared.

"I'm fine." Barely muttering, she moved quick around them and continued to run, Aegon turning to watch her go. She ran outside and went past the stables and blacksmith, going along the wall, slowing to a casual walk as she glanced over her shoulder. No one was following. Arya panted quietly as she leaned against the stone wall, it was good to be home but she wished Sansa and Aegon weren't here.

"Why are you teaching the king... about fire magic? Answer me!" Arya jerked up and walked along the wall as she listened, trying to peak slowly into the arch of the wall, but she couldn't see who was there.

"The night is dark and full of-"

"I will cut you down priestess! Now answer!"

"So protective of your king... Very well. The king is weak and he needs to be made strong."

"With fire magic?" Arya heard steel scraping, a sword being sheathed.

"The coming weeks will change his future and he must be made ready. If he cannot wield the flame, it will swallow him whole."

'_Aegon..._' Arya bit her lip before she moved away, back towards the blacksmith. She didn't want to hear anymore of this.

"And how are you teaching him?" Jon demanded of her, Melisandre slowly lowered her hands.

"The old ways, of course. Valyrian words have a power, a deep strength which the king may draw upon. Yet he has not realized it." The Red Priestess began to walk but Jon held her by the arm.

"You will not harm the king!"

"I will never harm the king." She smiled and put her hand over his. "I swear by your old gods, your new gods, and the great R'hllor, the one true god."

"And if you ever do, I'll do R'hllor's work for him and strike you down." Jon growled.

"Oh you shall do the bidding of the Lord of Light, dear boy of snow. Your blade will rise, but not against me." Her smiled seemed more wicked now, or at least very pompous. As if she knew a secret and wanted him to want to know, but would never share it.

* * *

Night had come quickly, being in the North. King Aegon laid in bed, with great pelts woven into a blanket so warm that he felt he would sweat soon enough. Even the room seemed rather hot even with summer snow outside. This heat came not from his hearth, it came from the walls. He found it so strange, it seemed as if there was a rush of warmth coming from the stones, rising up and sweeping the cold away. He sat up, his bare legs hanging over the bed as he reached up to press his hand to the wall. Warm. Even though he was naked in the room, he felt no cold, yet the heat here felt different than it did in the south.

Staring at the hearth and into the fire, he watched the flames flicker and dance. His amethyst eyes glimmered and reflected the fire's light brilliantly, and he looked deeper, deeper still until it felt like the flames were on his eyes. Softly, near silently he muttered Valyrian words. He spoke them slow and enunciated each as correctly as he could manage, and with each of these words, the flames made an unusual movement. Sometimes the sparks burst up, other times the flame seemed to edge away, or come forth in a soft roar, crackling the wood and coals it nested on. Each word brought out more frightening of a vision in the flame as he looked into it, deeper and deeper, his eyes beginning to burn as the words still flowed from his lips. Soon the final word came and it was if all the images going through his mind, all the dancing of the flame, everything, it stopped.

Aegon sighed softly as he blinked finally, pulling himself together as he slipped his legs back under the soft linens and wolf pelts. He reached over with a matchstick, catching the flame of the one candle still lit, passing it to three others so the light was brighter around him. Then he reached to the other side, and pulled up a book that had a marker in it. One of the gifts of Jon Arryn: "The Tongues of Essos". He could not control fire, he could not master the flame and bid it his doing. So instead, he contented himself to read, thanks to Lord Stark's generous stocking of extra candles.

At the very least, he would better learn the language of his blood. Old Valyria called to him from within, so he would honor it and his family by at learning to speak proper... properly!

* * *

Her gown flowed behind as she twirled slowly, her hand pressed to Aegon's as they danced the 'seven circles'. There were six couples surrounding the king and Sansa as they danced, who would line up at times before dispersing back into the circular pattern. This was done seven times as the music played, a very formal southern dance, one that was tied closely to the new ways. The old ways of the North had no need for such dances, but Sansa looked happy nonetheless as she danced with the king. The music ended and Aegon as well as the other male partners slipped down onto one knee, taking their lady partner's hand into there own before planting a kiss on it. Sansa had more than enough modesty to blush and turn her head away slightly.

"Oh my sweet king. Thank you for this." Sansa curtsied to her partner as did the other ladies as the men stood up.

"It was my honor, Lady Stark." He took her hand into his, escorting her from the center of the floor. They walked up to the high table and he seated her beside her father before he went to sit on the other side of Lord Stark. With Catelyn Stark still in Riverrun, Sansa acted as the lady of the house for the feasts. Wearing a sea-green dress with small crystals woven into the bodice, silver thread and lace on her sleeves and neckline, and a simple gold necklace with small gold-bead earrings as a final touch. Were it not for her hair done up in a southern manner, she would look like a true lady of the North in all her beauty and stride.

The king had been at Winterfell almost a week now, and Sansa seemed to try to act as his guide and entertainment all in one. Ned Stark showed Aegon the Godswood, the small sept, the main parts of the castle, but it was Sansa who toured the library, foundry, training grounds and great halls with the king. Just before dawn she would rise and make sure the king's breakfast was ready, that his clothes were being laid out and freshened for the day. At first the Kingsguard prevented her from managing such things, but after two days and with constant instance, she finally took control.

Arya hated to watch how smug her sister had become just from playing as hostess and dancing with the king a few times. Casually she watched them when they weren't looking, sitting beside Robb who sat next to Sansa. Bran and Rickon sat beside the king so she had a safe spot at the end of the table, so did Rickon, but he spent his time giving Shaggydog food from the table. As soon as no one was looking, she slipped from the table and left by a side door.

Syrio Forell watched from the long tables, smiling as he watched his pupil slip away so well between the shadows. He had helped her with this, and while he did not approve of the girl's sinister behavior towards her sister, he did believe the king needed an eye-opener. And that's what he was going to get.

The feasting went on, an hour went by without Arya there. She had gone to her room to prepare, she was going to strike down her sister and make sure that Aegon stopped being an idiot. Her father would never forgive her if she did something vicious, nor would Aegon for that matter. So instead she would wound Sansa in a completely different way, likely a more painful one.

Before long, the final dance of the night had come and Aegon rose from his seat. There were a few ladies to choose from, of course Sansa was one and had been selected each and every time out of courtesy. Though even before Aegon could reach the line of ladies, the doors opened. Some of the candles went out as the breeze whistled in. Heads of course turned at the unexpected entry, especially Sansa as her eyes went as wide as they could when she saw her little sister.

In walked Arya attired in a black and white gown with lace trimmings and a simple pearl necklace with droplet earrings to match. It was hardly a magnificent dress, without the lace, pearls or fine stitching it would be rather normal. Her hair was brushed back with scented wood oil, braided behind her head in a fashion not of the North or really of the south either. Though Arya's face had no blush or lip stain, and likely no powder at all, she still had the expression of a lady. Ned Stark could hardly believe his eyes, seeing his youngest daughter dressed more finely than he'd ever seen her. The wild child had been tamed, or so onlookers thought for the moment... until she reached out her hand.

King Aegon stood there, as much in shock as the rest of them. Even at the Red Keep or during courtly events, even when introduced Arya had made no effort to look as she did now. All he could do was take her hand into his, unable to think as he stepped with her to the center of the hall. Sansa wore the most surprised face, her mouth was gaping but soon her teeth grit together as her hands wrestled with each other in her lap. It was all made worse when Arya leaned up to kiss Aegon on the cheek before being escorted to the floor, the king red in the face.

'_I'm the lady here! He's not supposed to dance with her!_' Angry thoughts raced in her mind, but she knew better than to make a scene. Instead she remained composed, and curtsied to the back of the king as she stepped back in line with the other ladies, awaiting a gentleman to ask for her hand in the dance. Sansa refused them all, and returned to be seated next to her father. Lord Stark still dazzled as the music started and Aegon began to lead the dance with Arya. His daughter, was dancing. And without a blade in her hand, it was amazing.

As Sansa got to the high table, she stood there near her seat, watching the partners dance. A lady shouldn't be angry, she told herself, a lady should be composed at all times. She couldn't though, anyone but Arya who was ruining everything for her. Aegon was supposed to dance with her! Supposed to marry her! This wasn't how it was supposed to work out, the last dance was meant for her too! It was more than Sansa would tolerate as she left the high table and the hall, calmly though. She would not fuss, she forced herself not to fuss. It was only a dance. Only a dance.

"You seem troubled, dear lady." A voice startled her as she walked in the corridor, and she stepped back at she saw the Red Priestess.

"...Hello." Sansa managed, not sure how to address the strange woman.

"Hello." Melisandre smiled as she replied before repeating herself. "You seem troubled."

"No, I'm fine. Thank you." Sansa said gracefully before she continued to walk, moving past the red woman who turned to watch her go.

"Do you love the king?"

"...I..." Sansa stopped and looked back. "I'm sorry, that's not your business."

"Do you want the king to fall in love?"

"Fall in... Yes, yes I want him to. I can't though." Sansa held herself.

"Oh but you can..." The Red Priestess approached the girl, holding out something which Sansa reached out to take cautiously. Looking in her hand, she saw a small vial with red liquid in it that seemed to give off a faint light.

"What... what is it?"

"Pour this in the king's wine. Let his love spill from his heart."

"The king will love me if I give him this?" Sansa asked, looking up at Melisandre, not much thinking anything of this.

"The king will love, yes." Melisandre spoke softly, nodding her head as she smiled at the Stark girl.

"Your Grace." Arya whispered softly as the pair stepped apart, holding their hands together as they stepped slowly around one another.

"Lady Stark."

"You need to stop being an idiot."

"Uh..."

"Tomorrow we'll start sparring again. Do you promise?" Arya seemed to almost scold him.

"...As it pleases you, my lady." He smiled, though he seemed a bit baffled by her attitude.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: After several reviews stating that I've misinterpreted Doran, I've come to try and reanalyze his character. Like with Tywin, and I am trying to re-situate him in this AU. In canon he was a supporter of the Targaryens, hates the Lannisters for what happened to his sister and her children, passively tries to restore the Targaryens, etc. But what if the Targaryens never fell from power, his sister was never violated or murdered, would Doran truly still be the same man? He stays hidden away to avoid facing his enemies head on and prefers to rely on slow tactics and plots to reach his goals. And he's not exactly against plots within the family as seen with Arianne, regardless of his reasoning. To me, Doran is a Dornish Prince first before all else and the Targaryens are the symbol of that which subjugates Dorne. So now, if you truly feel that Prince Doran should not be the one directly responsible for these mishaps, please say so in the next review. I will reorganize the plot somehow if you, the readers, do believe that this is far beyond Doran's character. (And I certainly welcome suggestions by PM!). I don't mind being criticized for my choices or writing, I welcome it, it makes me a better author. I always do my best to think out my decisions and creative-authority, and will always readily do my best to defend my position without bias. I do not however enjoy disappointing my readers, even if this is an AU! This story has become a story that's slowly shaped by you. You call for Arya to step up to the plate, there she is whacking the crap out of Aegon. You want more Tyrion, he's on stage and slapping around his enemies. You want to see Aegon burn his enemies... ehhhh let him grow up a bit more... This is **our** story now, I want to tell it together :D …. I just get the final word ;)

_**Review Response**_: To Beda, thanks for the review! Shame on you, not writing and dedicating yourself to education! ;P Just kidding. Glad you like the flow the story is taking! It's definitely turning into a mini-epic of a Dragon's tale. Though everything does have a reason, I may be stretching GoT quite a bit, but am trying to do it as logically as I can :) Fire will come, and let's hope the right people get burned!

_**Review Response #2**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks for the review! You'd be surprised what political advantage this all has for Doran. He's done just as bad to his own family, so I personally don't find it a surprise that he'd find a way to... extend his agenda to the Iron Throne. Though, is he after the throne or...? You'll have to see! Well Aegon _is_ the main character, and he is meant to be a bit of a twit. Though other POVs, that I can work on definitely. I'll try at some point to give two or three chapters of other POVs besides Aegon if I can :) Glad you liked Tyrion!

_**Review Response #3**_: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks for the comments! I hope Aegon marries someone from the North too! But will the North accept him? And yeah, Doran is crafty, and I know I'm turning him into as much a villain as Tywin but... well... it's fun :D Hopefully some order is brought to this crazyness in future chapters!

_**Review Response #4**_: To HermioneandMarcus, thanks for the comment! You're welcome, I hope you'll continue to follow and enjoy the story :) I've a lot more to share!

_**Review Response #5**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the review! Well with Doran, think of it this way the way you would for Jaime Lannister, Tywin Lannister, Viserys Targaryen, etc. All these characters have similarities to the canon but differences because of the different turn of events. The best example is Viserys, he's still mad and greedy for power because he was born mad and then fed stories about being king by someone, making him the same as the canon. Tywin on the other hand is more radical and irrational since he's been sitting comfortably in a powerhouse as the near-literal ruler of the seven kingdoms since Rhaegar died. Now then Doran is known for being brutally spiteful to the Lannisters because of the rape and murder of his sister and her children, but also when it comes to his own daughter he uh... has conspiracies with stuff that I can't mention without putting spoilers, and Oberyn has to step in, and yata yata. In this AU, his sister lives and he's been dealing with the Targaryen rule just like every other Dornish lord since the subjugation that was brought on by marriage, so even though Elia married Rhaegar, that doesn't ease tensions. I hope that clears it up a bit! Anyways, thank you for the applause, I'm glad it was appropriate! :D And Daenerys is sweet, painfully so and I am working on trying to make her more like Rhaenys who has become naturally a strong woman, but Daenerys needs certain requirements to mature, and I'll be working on that! And as for the rest, will update as soon as I can ;)

_**Review Response #6**_: To The Black King, thanks for the review! Though not really a good place to put a spoiler-filled review ;) But that is an interesting take on the RLJ theory, especially the idea of the SoIaF being about families and not individuals. That is something new for me to think on so thanks for that!

_**Review Response #7**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the review! Glad you're liking it! Danerys is a fun character, but it'll be more fun once she matures a bit ;) Prince Doran loved his sister and her children dearly in the canon, but in my brain that makes me wonder if their loss is what made him loyal to the Targaryens. The Dornish aren't exactly on the most happy of terms with the Dragons to begin with, just like any of the other kingdoms, except with Dorne, they fought for a long time to keep their independence, and in the end it wasn't dragons that brought them down. So for me, under Targaryen rule, many Dornish, especially Dornish leaders feel insulted and supressed. As for Melisandre, she's just a hoot, met the king and a few days later sends a postcard to King's Landing. She had Stannis around her finger because of his unhappy marriage, so instead she probably takes advantage of Aegon's insecurities.

_**Review Response #**__**8**_: To Andrea, thanks for the comments! Well for my plots and schemes, half of them if not more are inspired by the canon story, all the raw information and storyline is there, I just adapt it to Aegon :) Well Varys (I think) has a very clear objective in the canon, he just doesn't want aaaaanyone to know, he's definitely one of my favorite characters. Little Finger is more of an addition just to make Varys more fun, they're opposites in so many ways yet are both very much into secrecy and sneaky stuff. Just watch out if Little Finger tells Aegon to 'trust him'. And yeah, Melisandre, the priestess of light who looks on the dark side of everything. I'm sure she's going to burn something down at one point or another.

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. **And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series.** Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	15. Chapter 14 - Tower Dreams and Shadows

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 14: Tower Dreams and Shadows**

Though he stepped with care, he moved quick. There was never time to waste even on the most relaxing of days, for being too cautious was dangerous. Cold misty rain fell over him and the stones he touched, making it slick yet he could still hold and stand firm without trouble. He'd done this for as long as he could remember. Maester Luwin said that he'd learned to climb before he learned to crawl, and it seemed true enough as he ran along the rooftops, jumping off one to catch a stone ledge, pulling himself up.

Down below, Summer was whining and going in circles. The wolf often didn't settle down when Bran was off climbing things. Though the direwolf had grown big and seemed fierce, it let out pup-like sounds as it watched Bran, only laying down once the boy was out of its sight. And he remained out of sight for all the eyes in the castle as he walked atop the wall, skipping effortlessly along the ramparts. Taking a leap, he grabbed onto a stone, dangling very high off the ground now as he eased up onto one of the old towers that was rarely used. Pulling himself up, he could see quite far.

'_The king..._' Bran could see King Aegon returning from the hunt with father, the North Lord riding alongside his liege as they conversed. Behind them was the entourage and two wagons, one with a deer and wild pig, the other with a moose. He saw just how different the king was from him and his family. Father wore gruff leather vestments with a thick silver chain holding his gray cloak in place. The king wore gold and white, small rubies sewn into his doublet and dragon pendant around his neck. Were it not for the thick wolf cloak on his shoulders the king would look completely southern, though he only did half-wear it since it was fair out.

Even with the soft snow slowly drifting to the ground, it wasn't all that cold out. Not yet anyways. Bran loved when they got a summer storm, when all the ground would be white for a day or two. He'd play with the wolves and Rickon in the snow, what little of it there was. It always seemed to make mother sad, as it did with many of the adults who had seen and lived through winters. It was not a matter of fun and games for them.

'_Why does he have to leave?_' Bran wondered as he turned to climb down the tower. In a few days the king would leaving after spending over a fortnight at Winterfell. He would see the Wall and honor the Night's Watch, father had said they were reconstructing the King's Tower that even though was well-kept had not been visited by a king for more than a hundred years. Most especially since the king was funding the repairs of Castle Black.

And Bran didn't want him to go sleep in the King's Tower, he didn't want Aegon to see the Wall and then have no reason to be in the North anymore. He liked watching Aegon spar with his brothers, and even better with Arya who often gave the king a bruise or two. Though of course he returned what he received. Father was glad to see the king enjoy himself, even if his child had turned wild once more. Though the Lord Stark had mixed feelings about Arya's happiness, as it was brought on at the cost of Sansa being unhappy in turn.

Brandon was avoiding Sansa, most of Winterfell was if they could help it. She seemed to be in a fit of depression or rage half the time, being stricter with preparations for the king though far more sneakier. Bran heard that Sansa was caught being out of bed, sitting in the kitchen by herself without even a fire lit. Their lord father couldn't get it out of her to know why she was there in the first place. Rumors were already spreading about her, and it seemed to only get worse since the king had danced with Arya.

Everyone was on edge, always glancing over their shoulders at the Red Priestess who seemed to come and go as she pleased. Only the king tolerated her presence, though at times from the towers of Winterfell, Bran saw Sansa speaking with her. The priestess almost looked like she was consoling his sister. He found it strange and watched them for a long time, sometimes following Melisandre while other times he went after Sansa. The red woman would go to the Godswood out of Bran's sight and Sansa would return into the keep, and though Brandon had tried to follow each of them, he could not find where they each went.

That wasn't what bothered him the most though. Winterfell was different. Brandon had looked down at the great fortress from above for most of his life, and he never saw what he did since returning. Even with the sun high in the sky, the shadows never seemed to completely fade. They seemed to rather move around, flowing like water along the ground into dark corners to await the twilight. At first maybe he thought he was seeing things, but when the summer snow came and dusted the ground white, it was all too clear.

It disturbed the boy greatly, but he dared not speak of it. What could he possibly say that didn't sound like childish imagination? At least not to his lord father. There was someone he did want to tell, someone who would maybe take it seriously. Someone who was experienced and wise enough to heed even a child's warning.

As the king rode in with Lord Stark, Brandon began to hop down from stone to stone, swinging on wooden beams and dropping onto thatched rooftops. While he was mainly out of sight, a pair of eyes had spotted him or perhaps a few pairs. They watched him as he got to the ground and hurried off after the hunting party as they rode into the main courtyard.

Father was already dismounting with the king as were the Kingsguard, heading towards the entrance. Bran sprinted into the courtyard and towards Aegon, slowly as he panted softly, bowing at the waist. After him came Summer who immediately sat down beside Brandon, wagging his tail behind him.

"My king." The boy said rather loudly. Aegon turned his head and looked at the boy.

"Brandon." The king glanced down at him. "What can I do for you?"

"I only wanted to welcome you back." Bran said as he looked at the king. "And I wondered... might I speak to Ser Barristan?"

Aegon glanced to the Kingsguard who approached, the king turning back to the boy and nodding. The knight watched Bran and smiled at him, the old man standing tall and proud before him.

"What is it little lord?" Barristan asked.

"I wonder... Ser, if I could talk to you in private..." Brandon muttered, loosing his confidence steadily. The Kingsguard looked to Aegon, either to protest or request permission, but the king only nodded before he continued to walk with Lord Stark. Ser Barristan was left with Bran as the other walked behind him, the knight gestured for the boy to follow him, the pair walking away from the others around the courtyard.

"Do you want to be a knight, little lord?"

"Yes. I mean, I do." Brandon replied quick, still catching his breath.

"Though this isn't what words you wanted to share, is it?" The old Bold Knight asked as Brandon looked all around them.

"No... I just, don't know how to say it."

"Words are best spoken in full truth as simply as possible." The knight smiled.

"The king is in danger here in Winterfell." Brandon spoke in a hushed tone.

"Danger? Boy... what do you mean?" Ser Barristan's tone went from casual to severe in an instant.

"No one will believe me if I tell them. Father told me you're the oldest and wisest of the Kingsguard... I thought that..."

"Boy, what is threatening the king? I need to know." Ser Barristan didn't mean to be impatient. He put his hand on Brandon's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I see things. Dream things." Brandon started, feeling already that he sounded like a mad man. "I see the king standing on top of a volcano, bathing in its fire with three dragons. There's a storm of ice and snow around him, with shadows creeping up the volcano after him... I wouldn't worry so much, but I've seen-"

"Volcano? Are you sure?" Ser Barristan took him serious, looking anxiously at the boy.

"Yes Ser... A great volcano with a black castle on the side of it..."

"Gods be good." The knight seemed displaced with himself, torn between one worry and another. "What else?"

"I see shadows. Here in Winterfell. I see them when I climb up on the castle walls, they move around freely even in the light... though they edge away from it."

"In your dream?"

"No." Brandon replied before the knight could even finish asking him. "No, I see them here. I see them now. They're waiting."

"Waiting? For what?"

"I don't know..." Brandon was starting to feel foolish again.

"Is there anything else? Anything at all, even a small detail?"

"No Ser... No that's it."

"Boy, you've done me and your king a service." Ser Barristan spoke quietly still. "You can tell no one of this. I will see to it that the king is protected."

Brandon nodded quickly and the knight gave the boy's shoulder another squeeze before leaving him in the courtyard, hurrying off to find Ser Jon Connington.

* * *

The feast was as festive as they all were, but this one seemed to loom over distraught. After speaking with his Kingsguard, the king announced he would leave that very same evening. While this should not dampen anyone's spirits, Lord Stark was very dissatisfied to hear that Melisandre would be staying behind in Wintertown while Aegon went to the wall. Of course the North Lord did not object, if anything he reluctantly welcomed the opportunity to keep that woman away from the king.

Sansa on the other hand was a mess. She had gone to her room and bawled for more than an hour, no one could console her. And they all assumed she was upset because the king was leaving...

Brandon sat at the high table, dressed as finely as his brothers. He looked around slowly, the shadows weren't inside. They never seemed to creep into the hall for some reason, he found. Only other more remote parts of the castle. Jon Snow was sitting beside his mentor among the Kingsguard who were resting or eating while the others stood around the high table on guard.

'_This feels familiar._' Brandon continued to glance around the hall, at faces and tables, on the walls and at the king. The boy had eaten here a thousand times before, this was no different. Yet something told him that he had lived through this scene once before, and that he knew to expect something, but what? Sansa, he had to look for Sansa. Brandon didn't see her at the high table but he was sure she was in the great hall. The boy was becoming light headed as the anxiety strangled him, he knew something had to be done, something and it was slowly becoming clearer but would it be too late by then?

'_I have to stop her_." He didn't know where the thought came from, but now he knew that if he didn't find Sansa... Brandon couldn't bare to try and remember what that meant.

"Girl!" There was a shout from behind the high table. As Brandon turned his head, he saw Sansa. Her arm being clutched by Ser Barristan, in her other hand was a jug of the wine. "What did you do to the king's wine?"

"N-nothing Ser! I merely meant to pour it before... before you grabbed me!" She complained, trying to pull away from the knight.

"I saw you pour something into the wine!"

"Ser I didn't... I-"

"Sansa?" Father looked pale, standing slowly.

"It's alright, Ser Barristan." Aegon said as he kept his seat, holding his glass up to the side. "I was thirsty anyways after all."

"Your Grace, I think we should get you a new jug." Ser Barristan used the same stern tone he had with Brandon, yet Aegon seemed to ignore it. Brandon felt the anxiety get worse.

"She has been tending to me ever since we arrived. I am sure this wine is as good as all the rest."

"Your Grace, if-"

"Release her Ser." The king ordered and he did so immediately, what more could he do. Sansa held the wine protectively though her arm hurt a little as she walked to the king's side, pouring.

"Thank you, my king. I'm sorry to cause such a scene..." Sansa spoke softly but Brandon could still hear her if not barely. Father had sat back down, still looking in disbelief at his daughter.

"No need to worry, my dear lady." Aegon replied as he nodded to her. Brandon felt his heart race as the king moved the cup towards him to drink.

"Summer." Brandon whispered urgently, perhaps too much so as Robb glanced down at him. The boy leaned to under the table where the wolf poked its face between his master's legs. "Go bite the king..."

"Brandon!" Robb snapped in a whisper, staring at his little brother. "What are you-" He moved to try and grab Summer by the scruff under the table, but it was too late. Just before the cup touched the king's lips, it went flying onto the floor as Aegon cried out as he jerked back, kicking his legs as snarls came from under the table. Father jumped up as did the Kingsguard who were seated, all drawing their swords.

"Nymeria!" Arya called from the other end of the high table. Brandon's eyes briefly met with his sister's.

"Summer!" Brandon joined in, the snarls going silent as the king pushed away from the table. The two wolves hurried from underneath and ran around to their masters, the Kingsguard putting themselves between the king and the direwolves now.

"Arya! Brandon!" Father was shouting. "What is the meaning of this?!"

"It's alright, Lord Stark." Aegon sat down again, lifting up his leg. Brandon watched Maester Luwin hurry over as fast as his old bones could to examine the king. "I'm fine."

"Indeed so, my king." Maester Luwin concurred as he helped Aegon remove his leather boots. The material was torn easily and there were marks and bruises on the king's flesh, but no drawn blood. It seemed the wolves had not used much strength in their bite.

"Ser Rodrick! Take the wolves, _all _of them to the stables. Arya, Brandon, Sansa. To your rooms. Now!" Father was angry again, at all of them.

"I'm truly alright, my lord." Aegon said, flinching as Maester Luwin applied a tonic of some sort to the tiny flesh wounds.

"Yes my king you are. Though I mean to know why these wolves suddenly attacked you. This is not the North way of treating guests." Father spoke so firmly that it seemed all the king could do was nod.

"I'll escort them." Robb stood up and Brandon felt himself sink into his seat. Reluctantly he got up as did Arya and the three walked away slowly. Sansa had other ideas.

"Why?" She seemed on the verge of tears. "It was their wolves, not mine! Why do I have to-"

"Sansa. Go to your room." Father was not letting up, and soon Sansa hurried ahead of them. Robb let her go, not wanting to make a scene in front of the king anymore than already had unfolded. Little Rickon was left by himself, scared as he slipped out of his seat onto the floor to hug Shaggydog, not understanding what was happening. Septa Mordane had to pull him free from the wolf as it was taken away, the boy crying loudly over the ordeal.

"You two have some explaining to do." Robb said as they left the hall and walked through the private corridor towards the Stark quarters.

"You knew." Brandon said, though he said it to Arya who was watching the ground as they walked.

"Knew what?" Robb asked, trying to be firm like father.

"Nothing." Brandon answered quickly, looking up at his brother.

"You too." Arya answered after him, glancing at Brandon. Robb stopped them, kneeling down to be at their height.

"What, is going on?" Robb asked, looking between the pair.

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing Arya. What is going on?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Arya. The direwolves-"

"Robb!" Brandon, pulled on his brother as he looked behind him. Robb stood quick and glanced back. The shadows were gathering in the corridor, all of them could see it thankfully. Robb had no blade to draw so all he could do was shield his siblings as they slowly stepped back.

"Brandon, take Arya and go."

"What about you?" Brandon asked, he felt himself starting to shake with fear as the shadows began to take form. Arya contained herself, though she was just as afraid.

"Don't worry, just go."

"Aegon!" Arya screamed out.

"Arya! Go with Brandon!" Robb snapped as he pushed them back, the shadow taking on the shape of a man wielding a sword. Before Brandon could muster the courage to even move, the doors down the corridor opened and Aegon came in barefoot with the Kingsguard, along with father and a group of Stark guards.

"Arya! Brandon!" Father shouted, the light from the hall barely enough to light where the shadow was.

"By the Seven..." Ser Connington stared at the shadow that now turned at the waist to face them, not having to move it's hips or legs as it twisted around. It let out a screech before it began to dissipate into a strange smoke and slithered away into the dark. Father went with the guards down the corridor, torches lighting where the shadow had been. Arya and Brandon clung to their father as the king spoke out.

"I want Melisandre found. Bring her to me." Aegon ordered as he walked toward Robb with Ser Jon, Ser Barristan and Jon Snow.

"Your Grace. We need to get you somewhere safe." Robb said, as he looked at father.

"Brandon, Arya. What's going on?" Aegon asked looking at the two.

"My king!" One of the guards returned quickly after only have just left. "It's the Red Priestess!"

"What is it?" Aegon glanced away from the pair, looking over his shoulder.

"She's riding off by the south road. She left only a moment ago."

"What?" Aegon hissed.

"She's gone, my king."

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: Sorry for the delay! I was sick for a short time last week and then I really didn't feel like writing, then writer's block, then I went to the moon and- yeah, it's been a non-productive week. Anyways, here's the chapter! I thought Brandon should get a little spotlight, next up is a Tyrion chapter with appearances from the Baratheons! So remember to review, or Cersei will come after you!

_**Review Response**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks for the review! Glad you think it's coming along well. Though really, Melisandre isn't known for her straight-forwardness I think, but then again I'm making her more malicious than the canon. For my own reasons!

_**Review Response #2**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the review! Melisandre could go either way, toying with Jon or not. She probably enjoys tormenting him though. And Arya is slowly stepping up to be a Northern woman, though I've changed (or rather left out) a lot of detail that leads up to her maturing, though I'll be adding in more for her later. Aegon and fire magic seem to go hand in hand, but also priests of R'hllor have been trying to get Targaryens on their side for generations. Aerys failed to come to their side regardless of being obsessed with fire, Rhaegar likely never gave ear to them, and now Aegon is verging along the line of fire magic. Seemed fitting :)

_**Review Response #3**_: To Zirael07, thanks for the review! Well that was the hint I was giving, though in a way, she is burning it down, just in a metaphorical sense ;) She's destroying trusts and ultimately trying to get at Aegon, but why/how, who could say?

_**Review Response #4**_: To HermioneandMarcus, thanks for the comments! I'm glad you're liking it :)

_**Review Response #5**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the review! Melisandre is doing what she does best, causing trouble. Jon probably dislikes the Red Priestess as much as everyone else. So now things start to unfold with her, though seems strange she just skipped town. Don't worry thought, I have plans for her in the future ;)

_**Review Response #6**_: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks for the review! Indeed she never did, very sneaky of her, though lucky Sansa took so long to attempt and failed at it too. Arya and Aegon have a unique relationship at the moment, though there's a lot more of them to come. In a few chapters there'll be a big scene for them. If it's romance, a dispute, or something more, who could say ;)

_**Review Response #7**_: To Doof Evil Inc, thanks for the comments! I'm not sure where I'm going with this, Sansa still might make a recovery, she may not. I'm personally not a fan of Sansa as a character, from the start she has an attitude I don't fancy. Though that doesn't mean Aegon wouldn't or couldn't. The idea of who he'll marry is up in the air, he hasn't even had a chance to have time with Margarey Tyrell for instance.

_**Review Response #8**_: To Son of Apollo, thanks for the review! Glad you're enjoying this! More Greyjoys, I can do. How to fit them in, I'll somehow work on that. As for more of the North, there'll be a little bit! Not the Dreadfort but White Harbor yes since Aegon has to go there to board the Gallant Dragon. So perhaps I'll open that scene up a bit more than I had planned :)

_**Review Response #9**_: To vince-sama, thanks for the comments! Yes Aegon/Arya is an odd pairing since both have childish, angry, and on the rare occasion mature personality traits.

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	16. Chapter 15 - Caged Lion

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 15: Caged Lion**

"So cozy." Tyrion commented as he tidied up his doublet, glancing around the decently decorated bedroom. "I do so admire the bars on the windows."

"Always a flair for the dramatics." Cersei said as she stepped into the room, Tyrion had practically been thrown in. "This is for your protection."

"And where is my dear newborn niece?"

"With her nursemaid, of course. I need my rest." Cersei smiled and Tyrion tried to return it.

"Five days since I've been here and three days since you birthed a beautiful baby girl. And now this."

"You don't seem too surprised." Cersei took a seat, sighing softly. She felt more tired than she looked.

"Frankly I'm not. And to be honest I had a warning that this was going to happen."

"This? The hospitality of my lord husband?"

"Hospitality is it?" Tyrion had to laugh. "He's as brutish as his rebellious brother."

"Mind yourself." Cersei said coldly.

"Well at least it'll be a funny story to tell dear little Shireen when she's old enough. Uncle Tyrion, thrown into the dungeon after coming to greet you into this world of summer, tits, wine and whores! Oh and wine... and tits. Did I mention those already?"

"This is hardly a dungeon. You're being treated rather well you know."

"Is this because I replaced father? I didn't ask to be Hand, the king just told me to do it."

"Always have to be so clever. You think you have it all figured out, don't you?"

"Oh I actually do. I just haven't been letting on." Tyrion smiled as he hopped up to sit on the bed. "Comfy, at least."

"So what have you figured out oh wise brother?"

"Well I know there's going to be a war." Tyrion answered, laying back on the bed. "And I know you're going to be the one to help start it."

"Oh you give me too much credit." Cersei smiled as she poured herself some wine. She couldn't stop drinking it after having forbade herself to it for many months. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Tell me, was it Jaime who shot the king or did you hire some goon to do the dirty work for you?" Tyrion sat up and watched his sister as she drank.

"You're being stupid." Cersei muttered as she came up for air.

"You wound me dear sister. I love my family very much, but I don't like being put in the middle of political scandal."

"Then I guess you arrived at a very inconvenient time little brother." Cersei said as Stannis Baratheon walked into the room. Tyrion didn't bother to get up nor did Cersei.

"Ah, Lord Hand Tyrion. I hope the new room arrangements aren't too much of a hassle."

"Not at all Lord Paramount." Tyrion looked up at him. "Not at all."

"We'll see to it that you're kept out of harm's way. You'll be back at Casterly Rock in no time at all."

"And why will I not be going back to King's Landing?" Tyrion asked though he knew the answer.

"Well, you have no reason to return there anymore, do you?"

"Well I am Hand of the King." Tyrion played along.

"Ah you see, your father will be restored to that position. Just as I will take on my new role as king, once the Mad Prince is dead."

"King? We already have a king, he's in the North inspecting the Wall if memory serves me rightfully."

"Oh, you hadn't heard." Stannis would have smiled, if he ever actually did. "King Aegon was slain by wildlings on the road to the Wall. Prince Viserys has fled to Dragonstone in fear of being accused of setting up the ordeal."

"That's terrible, terrible news." Tyrion continued to play, though now he sounded so plainly sarcastic it even hurt his own ears.

"So you see. We can't have a murderous mad man for a king again, the Mad Prince deserves a quick death at the least. And then-"

"And then by right of your grandmother, you will ascend to the Iron Throne and wed dear Joffrey to one of the princesses." Tyrion said as he idly kicked his feet. He had been waiting for this. Stannis looked down at the half-man and stared into the Little Lion's eyes, wondering why Tyrion was neither afraid nor worried in his own predicament, let alone remorseful for the apparently dead Aegon.

"What game do you play at, Imp?"

"Game? I don't know what you mean, Lord Paramount. I must be overwhelmed with the news of my king's death. Such tragedy that there are those among us who would plotted against a noble youth who only seeks to further the prosperity and peace of the realm."

"Indeed so... Lord Tyrion." Stannis kept his eyes on him, Tyrion still staring back at the Stag.

"I think that's enough dearest. My brother should rest, grief is almost as tiring as childbirth." Cersei slowly stood and took her husband's arm. While the Stag did not immediately remove his eyes from the Little Lion, he did nod.

"Yes, I agree my sweet. I hope you rest well, Lord Tyrion."

"Thank you, Lord Paramount." Tyrion smiled and watched the pair leave, Baratheon guards pulling the heavy door closed and locking it, leaving him alone. '_Your plan had better work Varys..._'

Tyrion thought back to what Varys had told him, not sure he knew what the Spider was truly up to. Not sure if the Spider even knew what he himself was actually up to. Yet all the same, he had to come to Storm's End and become a prisoner of Stannis Baratheon. If he had not, Aegon may actually have been endangered if anyone found out what Varys was doing. So as long as all eyes were on Tyrion or Viserys, then the Spider could weave its web and prepare to catch the king when the worst came to pass. All the better though that Tyrion was already getting under the skin of the Stag, putting him more in the spotlight for what was to come.

Though even now so early in this new round of the game, the Little Lion wondered if he would ever see Aegon again. He knew the time would be long if the worst actually did happen, but he prayed, truly prayed to the old and new gods that he would one day see the young king at least one more time.

* * *

"I don't understand what you mean."

"There have been reports of wildlings in the North who attacked the king's entourage."

"Then how do you know the king is dead?"

"My lord, His Grace was killed in combat. A most valiant death."

"But how do you know?"

"Lord Renly please. I know this must come as a shock, His Grace was loved by many and-"

"But you don't know that he's dead Maester." The young stag crossed his arms as he hovered before Maester Forian's desk, the old man fiddling with his chain as he sat there, feeling interrogated.

"The body of His Grace has not been found if that is what you are asking, my lord. Gods be good to the king's poor young soul." The Maester seemed to sweat a bit.

"Renly!" The young stag turned his head to see the all-too-familiar face of his brother. "What are you doing in here?"

"Learning great news it seems." Renly smiled as he turned to face his brother, nodding to Cersei. "My lady."

"News?" Cersei asked, smiling back.

"The king is dead. The tyrant spawn is gone. Hadn't you heard?"

"Mind your tone and your volume Renly. This is not news to shout over." Stannis growled.

"Isn't it? The son of the brute that slew our brother is dead, in the grave. As cold as the ice he rots on." Renly walked around the Lord and Lady Baratheon, giving a shrug. "It's joyous news if you ask me."

"Keep it to yourself Renly." Stannis snapped as the young stag left them. Maester Forian giving a sigh of relief, standing slowly to bow to Stannis and Cersei.

"My lord, you have my thanks. Lord Renly can be rather... enthusiastic about certain topics."

"He does seem happy about it." Cersei smiled at the Maester. "Though enough about dear Renly. We've urgent business to discuss Maester."

"Business, my lady?"

"Yes. Send a raven to Maester Pycelle."

"Damn Forian..." Renly grumbled as he headed to the lordly quarters of Storm's End in the great drum tower. News was slow to spread, but the young stag knew that the Lord Hand had been imprisoned by his brother. None dared to utter such rumors for fear of Lord Baratheon's displeasure, many would rather leap from the castle walls instead. Renly was not one of those, he held no love nor fear for his elder brother. All the family love he did have was for a brother he had difficulty remembering.

As suspected, Lord Tyrion was no longer in the drum tower where he had been boarded for his stay. Renly couldn't do anything more than feel defeated, turning to go to his own quarters, practically shoving the door open.

"Well... you're in a nasty mood today." Loras said, looking up from his book.

"What are you doing in here?" Renly asked, withholding his frustration.

"Now that is a greeting." Loras smiled as he stood up, tossing the book lightly onto a side table. "We were going to have luncheon remember?"

"Oh right."

"You do remember, don't you? You also remember we were going to spar." Loras moved across the room, shutting the door. "And I was going to remind you of what it's like to be put in your place."

"I remember now." Renly said as Loras walked to him and kissed his cheek.

"Good... though I'm in the mood perhaps to be put in my place. We could spar right here. Right now." The Flower Knight smirked slightly as he started to undo Renly's doublet, but the young stag stopped him.

"I'm not in the mood Loras."

"Oh no. Having another fight with your brother are you?" Loras sighed. "I've been here barely over a week and it's always about how Stannis puts you off. Well I'm put off! Do you know how much I had to grovel to the half-man for him to take me with him as his escort? I was so embarrassed Renly! I could have been in High Garden, but instead I stayed to await when I could come see you."

"Lord Tyrion is missing." Renly interrupted him, to no avail as the Flower Knight continued to ramble. Though when he finished, he looked very seriously at the young stag.

"Missing? Are you sure he didn't crawl under something?"

"No. My brother has locked him up. I'm sure of that."

"Oh my sweet man. You must be overreacting. The half-man is with his sister, I would know otherwise! So would the other knights."

"Cersei is the one who got him imprisoned in the first place. His entire trip here was a trap, and I don't know what's going on, but I intend to find out." Renly got his spark back and began to head for the door, but Loras stepped in front of him.

"Wait. Wait, wait, wait. If you're right. And Lord Tyrion has been put away. Do you know what that means? Do you understand that?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I am supposed to be protecting that Imp! If he's locked up somewhere on my watch, imagine the disgrace! I'll never live down the humiliation. This is worse than when the king was angry at me."

"Loras this isn't about you. Though you did deserve the king's wrath..."

"Oh look at you, defending the king and the Hand. You're supposed to be on my side Renly." Loras slipped his arms around the young stag. "Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it. I'll take on every humiliation, disgrace, embarrassment or beheading they throw at me."

"I think they can only behead you once." Renly said, kissing Loras' forehead.

"Maybe so. It'd be a worthy death though, if for you."

"Not for the Lord Hand?"

"Oh Seven hells Renly, you do ruin the mood sometimes." Loras huffed as he pulled away. "Fine. I'm going to go look for him. In return, we're shaving you neck down!"

"Again?" Renly asked, half-shocked, half-afraid.

"Again! And again! You'll be smooth as a newborn for the rest of your life if I have anything to do with it!" The Flower Knight said as he grabbed his sword belt and hurried out of the room.

Though Ser Loras hunted for Tyrion Lannister throughout the afternoon and into the eve, he found no trace of the Hand. All he came across were dead ends from servants as silent as the grave, guards who would not allow him passage and a disgruntled Stannis who warned him. Finally though, he found his mark. A lady-in-waiting to Cersei, she was a plump thing with a gentle smile and strange humor. He spoke sweet things to her and she spilled out her heart to him, recent secret-doings of the Lady Baratheon and all. Her hands trailed across the Flower Knight's chest, proclaiming a love for him as many maidens had in the past, yet he refuted her and simply kissed her hand before retreating.

"You have a habit of toying with the hearts of maidens, Ser." A stern voice said disapprovingly from behind Loras as he marched down the corridor to report back to Renly. He stopped dead in his tracks, there was only one beast in all the Seven Kingdoms that could right now stand behind him. Slowly he turned his head and smiled.

"Lady Brienne, what a nice surprise."

"Spare me. What are you up to Ser Loras to sink so low?"

"Well that's actually none of your concern, it's an important matter. That's all you need knowing!" Ser Loras quickly began to walk away but Brienne of Tarth was fast on his heels.

"Why is it you are looking for Lord Tyrion? What makes you so desperate to go behind my Lord and Lady's backs?"

"It's an important matter I said." Loras said not wanting to know how she knew, stopping fast as Brienne stepped around him and shoved her hand against the wall, blocking his path with her arm.

"If you are plotting against Lord Stannis, I'll have your head and-"

"And I'll have your Lord Stannis' head if he's the one behind Lord Tyrion's disappearance!"

"What are you rambling on about?"

"Look. I need to report, just go away." Loras ducked under Brienne but she grabbed him by the arm. The two began to struggle, half-wrestling in the corridor.

"Children, children." Renly said as he hurried towards them.

"Lord Renly." Brienne stepped back from Ser Loras and bowed her head. For all the loyalty she had for Stannis, she much respected the young stag.

* * *

"I'm THIRSTY." Tyrion echoed once more from his 'room'.

"I heard you m'lord." The guard answered tiredly from the other side of the heavy door, though Tyrion was sure he could hear him mutter 'bloody Imp' afterwards.

"I do not tolerate being mistreated. Is this the hospitality of Stormlands? It's atrocious to say the least!"

"I heard you m'lord." The guard repeated, now for about the second dozen time this evening.

"There are no books for me to occupy my time with, no whores for me to occupy, no wine to occupy me. What in the Seven hells am I supposed to do?"

"I heard you m- Lord Renly!"

"Open the door." Tyrion tilted his head as he sat on the bed, hearing the young stag outside of his prison.

"I can't m'lord. Her ladyship gave strict instructions for this door not to be opened by anyone but her."

"So she has the key?"

"W-well no m'lord! I keep the key but only Lady Baratheon can-"

"So it wasn't my brother who ordered this?"

"It may have been m'lord, I don't know..."

"Open it."

"M'lord! I can't! I-"

"Lord Renly said open it." Tyrion heard a woman, then a choking sound along with a big thud on the door. All the Little Lion could assume was that he was either being rescued or going to be in a great deal of trouble with his visitors. A moment later the door open, and Tyrion watched the guard fall into the room flat on his back, gasping for air as apparently a rather large woman had been holding him against the door by the throat.

"Ah. Lord Renly, so nice of you and my watcher to drop in like this." Tyrion said as he looked down at the man rolling onto his side to stumble up to his feet to quickly move away from the woman. "And you brought Ser Loras with you, and Brienne the Beauty. Quaint."

"We heard you were imprisoned my lord." Renly said as he followed in after Brienne.

"My Lord Hand!" Loras interupted. "Forgive me my lord, I hadn't known."

"Quite alright. I knew this would happen anyways, no use seeing your petals get torn off."

"You _knew_?" Renly questioned.

"Why would you want to be locked up on purpose my lord?" Brienne asked.

"Simple really. Though..." Tyrion glanced over at the guard.

"Oh he won't tell anyone." Renly assured him as everyone watched the man who still had his terrified eyes on Brienne.

"Will you?" She asked, making the guard shake his head quickly. "Good."

"Ah well then. To put it plainly, the king is in danger."

"I knew the king wasn't dead." Renly chuckled.

"Dead? I thought Stannis said that just to screw with me." Tyrion raised a brow.

"Maester Forian claims that bandits slew the king. The news hasn't been made public yet."

"Well I have to say, that's much more sloppy than I expected of Lord Stannis. Though then again what can you do? Everyone in the Stormlands is just such an ass." Tyrion emphasizes the last part, then looked at Renly and Brienne. "Present company excluded, of course."

"We should return to King's Landing, my lord." Loras stepped forward.

"I think not." Tyrion sighed. "It'll just become one big damn mess of shit if I go back now."

"Then you're just going to sit here and rot?" Renly asked in disbelief.

"Oh no. Not just sitting here. I get up to piss from time to time."

"Be serious my lord." Renly urged him.

"I am!" Tyrion chuckled and shook his head.

"Then what should I do my lord? The king won't tolerate Lord Stannis' behavior..."

"No I suppose not." Tyrion made a face as he contemplated. "Lord Renly. I need you to do me a favor... well rather I need you to do the realm a favor."

"What is it?"

"Go to the Vale and speak to Lord Arryn. Tell him about the situation and from there inform Lord Tully and Lord Stark by ravens. Do not under any circumstance send ravens before you reach the Eyrie. And certainly don't tell Lord Tywin or Prince Doran. Or Mace Tyrell for that matter."

"Are you insulting my father, my lord?" Loras snapped.

"Yes I think so. Your father would betray the king in an instant if it served him." Tyrion answered without even a thought, leaving the Flower Knight speechless.

"And Prince Doran? Surely the king's own uncle would-" Brienne began but stopped as the Little Lion shook his head.

"Will you do this, Lord Renly?" Tyrion asked. "It would mean betraying your brother, but it would be a service to the kingdoms."

"I will." Renly nodded, not even needing to think about it much to the surprise of Tyrion and Loras. The Beauty hardly flinched and seemed to turncoat alongside with her lord.

"My lord." Brienne looked at the young stag. "I will go in your place, it is too dangerous on the road."

"No, I have to go. I can't stay here and watch Stannis drag the Stormlands into a feud with the Iron Throne." Renly frowned.

"Then I shall accompany you." Brienne promised.

"Ser Loras, go with Lord Renly and Lady Brienne."

"As you say..." Loras grumbled.

"If it please you my lord... I'm no lady." Brienne said as she looked down at the half-man.

"No? I didn't think the rumors true." Tyrion said with a smirk, though Brienne was hardly phased. "Well enough chatter. You should leave as soon as the sun sets, and ride as fast as you can by the King's Road."

"And what of you, Lord Tyrion?" Renly crossed his arms.

"Me? Well I'll stay here. Enjoy my sister's hospitality. And probably rot some here and there. It'll be fun!"

"I can't say I'm encouraged by that." Renly half-smiled.

"No I can't say I am either, but what choice do we have?"

"We should saddle the horses now my lord." Brienne said as she glanced at Renly who nodded.

"Loras. Brienne." Tyrion said as he fumbled with his fingers. "Protect the king, if you come across him."

"On my honor I will." Loras said matter-of-factly.

"If he be a true noble soul, I willmy lord." Brienne's answer was far more harsh.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: This story is actually taking quite awhile to get to the good parts I have planned. I have to say that this AU is far more complex than I thought it would be. Sure I could have skipped Aegon's coronation, sure we didn't need Varys poking his nose everywhere with Tyrion and Arya, and Jon Connington didn't reaaaaally need an introduction. But then again, what sort of AU would that be? I hope I've conveyed the uneasiness there is with those around the Iron Throne regardless that a Targaryen sits on it. I hope you're slowly seeing a growth in Aegon, one that will show itself fully when the plot thickens. Though if you think it's thick now, wait till it's simmered for 10 chapters and see what kind of Dragon comes roaring out. I know a lot of focus is on Aegon (it's sorta his story), but I'm excited to put some spotlight on other characters. I'd like to hear more from you readers about what you'd like to see! I know the Greyjoys have been requested to make a main appearance, though I have to say that's a tough one and might only come much later. This fanfic was planned out to be 15 chapters (this would have been a horrible conclusion chapter)... now it might actually be 30-40... hopefully not more... possibly more.

_**Review Response**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the review! That's a very clever insight ;) While I'm very tempted to explain my thoughts on Melisandre's actions, I don't want to give away anything. I'll just say that she has a plan that involves Aegon, and every action she takes has a meaning (one of which will be partially explained next chapter). Ser Barristan is loyal to a fault, and he's very wise as well so at the least Brandon's words put him even more on guard.

_**Review Response #2**_: To rubini25, thanks for the comments! Arya is actually being catapulted in terms of maturity, since she doesn't have her father's death affecting her, I had to non-canonly force her to mature, though it'll sort of make sense later on. As for Sansa, I don't like her in the books or the TV series at first, she does become more likeable but she has to be burned every which way for her to act better. I just can't stand her, and I think I biasedly abuse her when I write :D

_**Review Response #3**_: To Beda, thanks for the review! No worries, the important thing is you're still reading it ;) Arya is Arya, thankfully she'll never be like Sansa. As for the wolfcloak, that comes up next! You miiiight not like the interpretations that come from it, but it'll be important for a certain character.

_**Review Response #4**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the review! Sansa snaps on command... that was mean, no she's just over anxious is all. As for the rest, well, you'll have to wait and seeee ;)

_**Review Response #5**_: To HermioneandMarcus, thanks for the comments! I'm glad you're enjoying it!

_**Review Response #6**_: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks for the review! Yeah Melisandre is a wonder all on her own... You'll be happy to know that Arya gets her first chapter in awhile! Well first as in it's about her. :D

_**Review Response #7**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks for the comments! Yeah I realize just how slow this fanfic is coming along, I'm getting a bit frustrated because there's so much good stuff I want to write. But that'll take time. And I can't give you the whole animal, you'll get full and won't eat your dessert ;)

_**Review Response #8**_: To Andrea, thanks for the review! Arya doesn't have greensight, I'll say that, she's just very observant as you noted. I hope the Tyrion chapter lived up to expectation!

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	17. Chapter 16 - End of the World

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 16: End of the World**

There was a firm knock on the door, Aegon groaned as he turned onto his back and glanced at the door. Morning light barely leaked into the room around the black drapes that covered each window, even the hearth gave off little illumination.

"Come." He said still half-asleep. Ser Jon Connington came in, shutting the heavy wooden door behind as he looked down at the king still abed with the fur blankets only half-covering him. With what little light there was, Aegon watched his knight bow his head. Though this stately room was meant to house royalty, it was rather cramp compared to all the other suites Aegon had stayed in. The bed was large, soft with goose down and linen sheets under thick wool and fur blankets. A small nightstand held three candles, one which was melted down quite a ways while the other two were barely used at all. Ser Jon stood at the side of the bed that was near the door, not having much space at all.

"You'll be late for breaking fast, my king."

"I'm not hungry. Tell them not to wait." Aegon rolled back onto his side away from the knight. His sleep had been very bad the last two days since they arrived at the Wall, full of nightmares and waking in sweat. He just hadn't felt at ease since the time when he and his entourage left Winterfell, just after Melisandre escaped and the Seven hells opened up on the castle.

* * *

"Fire! Fire!" Two bells rang on either side of the fortress. Robb hurried to the window to look out, the library was burning. On the far side of the castle flames were rising up above the walls.

"What in the..." Ned Stark went to the window as well then turned to his guards. "Water! Get those flames out, empty the library if you have to! Go! Now!"

There was a scrambled and people were flooding towards the library, passing buckets to one another in a chain to keep a steady flow. The fire was soon pouring heavy black smoke into the sky as it consumed the rooftop. Arya and Brandon went onto the ramparts to watch the commotion, neither of them felt easy about this as they stood with Hodor. Brandon couldn't remember the fire in his dreams, there had only been moving darkness, not this. Down below, most of the Stark guard and Kingsguard had joined in the lines, passing buckets. King Aegon meanwhile stayed behind with Ned Stark and Robb in the dark corridor, watching with disbelief.

"This is horrible." Ned grunted, watching his home burn slowly.

"There's already nine rows. The fire should be out shortly." Robb tried to reassure his father, it seemed to work as Lord Stark nodded.

"You." A voice came from the dark, all three turned to see something. At first Aegon thought it was another strange shadow, but this was solid. Too solid for comfort.

"You're not supposed to be here." Another voice said, there were several figures. Ned drew Ice and even in the dark it glimmered from what little light came through the window from the fire, and the sparse torches.

"No one is supposed to be with the king." A third voice.

"You'll all have to go." A fourth as six forms became more clear in the shadow, each holding two blades.

* * *

Aegon sighed and pulled the blankets over his head, feeling Ser Connington stare. Though soon enough the knight failed to find any more words and simply left the king's room, heading down the many steps of the King's Tower. The tower had been restored to its complete former glory, as had much of Castle Black since the king was visiting. Even though Commander Mormont had gone to such lengths to greet the king and prepare presentations of rangers and trainees, Aegon remembered the first thing he said was that he needed a bed. And it had been just before noontime as well.

The crumbling walls of the keeps had been reinforced and re-mortared almost stone by stone, bringing much of Castle Black into the modern era. Steel blades were in the hands of every ranger and trainee, bows and arrows were stocked, food supplies overflowing the pantries, and enough building materials for more than just the castle's rejuvenation were brought for the Night's Watch. Aegon knew that the men of the Black had worked long and hard to restore the castle in time for his visit, he knew what this visit meant to them. Yet his mind was elsewhere, he was just so drowsy.

Something was wrong, Aegon could feel it in his bones. Those ached as well for almost no reason. It wasn't the cold, though it was very cold at the Wall with the wind constantly whistling above the castle, ice draping every rooftop and tower. He couldn't say he liked it, not one bit at all, but he needed to stay here for at least a short while. The men of the Night's Watch were there for life, he could at least tolerate a few days.

* * *

"Are you alright, your Grace?" Ned panted, holding his arm as they hurried up the stairs. Blood was dripping down his fingers.

"I'm more worried about you Lord Stark."

"There's no time to worry, we have to alert the castle." The Wolf replied, already there was banging at the door at the foot of the staircase, the assassins hadn't given up pursuit. And why should they? Only Ned had a sword, and now he was wounded. The Kingsguard were occupied with the fire, and since Aegon ordered them to be diligent against it, they would not leave their post until the library was safe.

"Do you think the witch did this?" Robb asked, to no one in particular, but Aegon answered anyways.

"I think Melisandre knew, I think that's why..." The king's voice trailed off as they heard the door crash to the ground. There was no time to speak, no time to think. The three ran down the corridor two flights up from the half-dozen killers coming after them.

"Robb, take Ice. I can barely lift my arm." Ned grunted as he handed over the greatsword to his son who held it with both hands as they continued to hurry. Though soon they stopped as they made their way to the top of the tower where another figure awaited them.

"Master Forel!" Aegon said, surprised to see the Braavosi inside the castle during the fire, let alone atop the Stark quarters.

"Good evening boy." Syrio grinned, his sword was already out. "What do we say to death?"

* * *

Aegon flipped over again and kicked off the heavy furs before he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He had to get up, somehow he managed to do so but it seemed to strain him a great deal. Lifting from the bed, he tried to stretch but couldn't find the strength to lift his arms above his head. Combing his hair and splashing the no-longer warm water on his face, he dressed and pulled his great wolf cloak over his shoulders before he ventured out into the windy Castle Black.

In the training yards below, he at first heard and then saw boys sparring each other vigorously. It seemed the master-at-arms was being much crueler than normal since the king was being housed at the Wall. As he crossed one of the wooden bridges connecting two of the keeps, the training yard went silent. Today he didn't need to glance to see why, all the boys had stopped and bowed their heads. None would bend the knee since they owed King Aegon no service or loyalty, but certainly they were made to respect him for his generosity. Officially he was restoring the Night's Watch to proper order, unofficially the repairs stopped the wind from freezing the boys' asses at night. They loved him for that if nothing else.

Entering into the small library, Aegon quickly shut the door behind him and gently shook off the snow from his hair and cloak. He heard books fall to the floor, and glancing up he saw several scrolls join them as a fat boy stumbled around to pick things up.

"Y-you-your G-G-G-G... Grace." The boy finally managed as he hurried to tidy up and present himself.

"Is my uncle here?" The king asked.

"Uhh not...not...not at the moment... your Grace. He'll return shortly... if you'd like...like to wait." The boy seemed to be tripping over himself. "Let me take your cloak!"

Aegon would have kept it on, but the boy was trying ever so hard. Far too hard. So he allowed the boy to take the cloak and hang it up ever so carefully, as if he were handling delicate silk that would shred. He then pulled out a chair for the king, and Aegon reluctantly took the seat.

"Could I... bring you anything, your Grace?"

"No, thank you." Aegon replied, the silence after that hung heavy, he felt like he had to speak to at least stop the boy from fretting himself to an early grave. "You're... Samwell Tarly, correct?"

"Yes...yes your Grace!"

"I didn't know lordly houses allowed their sons to take the black so early on."

"Uh... no... well... Few choose to take the black... your Grace." The boy answered and Aegon immediately regretted saying what he had.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Oh no. I enjoy the Night's Watch. I can pursue my readings as I like, I get to work under a great Maester. It's much more than I could have hoped for." Samwell smiled, but even Aegon could tell just how miserable the boy was. How all of them were.

"Flattery makes for poor conversation, young Samwell." The old Maester came in from the other entrance, Aegon rose and walked to see him.

"Uncle."

"Ah. Your Grace." Aemon laughed softly as he put his hand on the king's arm. "So good of you to visit again. I must say, I am surprised you honor me with your presence daily."

"You are good company."

"Even though your Grace is ill."

"Ill?" Aegon asked as the Maester walked to the table and sat down across from where Aegon had been.

"Samwell. Some water." The boy nodded and hurried to get a jug and cups. The king sat down once more and faced Aemon.

"What do you mean I'm ill?"

"Are you not? Sleeping so much one might say you were on your deathbed. Gods new and old have mercy, I pray you live a hundred years still."

"It's just been a long journey, uncle."

"Men, men are always on a long journey. That is life, your Grace. We tire and we rest, when the time comes that we meet our fate. The slothful, the wicked, the uncaring, those are the ones that rest early. You are your father. You are your mother. You are not lazy or of poor character. This is why I suspect that you are ill." Aemon said as Samwell returned and poured them each a cup of water and placed it near them.

"I don't feel ill. Just I've-"

"Been dreaming?"

"How do you know that?" Aegon asked, putting the cup down without even taking a sip.

"Targaryens... we dream of dreams that only others dream of dreaming. We see ourselves as if we have stepped in a mirror to greet them. The world twists and shapes itself for us, letting us peer into a reality not our own. And we see the dragons that rise up into the sky. Some of us even see what is to come, things that could happen or have yet to happen."

"How do you know it's not just normal dreams?"

"Normal dreams?" Aemon chuckled. "When was the last time you had a... normal dream, your Grace?"

"Last night, I suppose. I dreamt that-"

"That you were flying? Of fire? Of battle? These are perhaps the dreams of many, but you saw things that others do not, should not see. Tell me, what did you dream last night?"

"A darkness." Aegon admitted after a pause.

"A looming icy man in a veil of dark mist, choking the life from you..." Aemon muttered, the king looked frightful at his uncle's words, nodding slowly.

"I didn't know it was a Targaryen trait to dream such things." Aegon said with little nerve.

"Targaryens have dreamed for a long time, your Grace." The old man answered.

"If I may, Maester?" Samwell muttered quietly.

"Yes Samwell?"

"Before the Doom ever happened, Daenys the Dreamer foresaw it and the Targaryens fled to Dragonstone. This may not have been the first incident, but an important one. After that, many Targaryens have had dragon-dreams. Some saw death, some saw great battles, some..." Samwell stopped as he looked at Aegon, finally remembering who he was talking to. "I...uh sorry, your Grace. You probably already...already knew that."

"I didn't." Aegon answered. "How do you know so much?"

"I read. A lot. I like to read." Samwell smiled a bit.

"He is a good pupil." Aemon smiled as well. "Your father too read every day of his life before he picked up a sword."

"He did?" Aegon hadn't known his father to be a scholar. There were always stories how his tourney conquests, of his slaying the Strong Stag, but never about being one to read extensively.

"Indeed. He read and he read, until one day he came across the prophecies of the prince that was promised."

"The coming of a great leader?" The king of course knew of that at least, everyone did. It was every child's favorite bedtime story, even his at one point.

"Indeed so, your Grace. Your father, thought he might be the one to fulfill this prophecy since it was foretold that our family would bear a child that would become this prince."

"And it was not my father?"

"Sadly not. Rhaegar may have been as beloved as Baelor the Blessed himself, perhaps more, but a king no longer of this world can not be a savior. When Lord Tywin was in the good graces of all, the people cheered for him loudly. Twice as much as the Mad King some would say." Aemon smirked a little. "Yet for Prince Rhaegar, for all the applause that the Lord Hand, Mad King, and all the glimmering Kingsguard could receive combined, those for your father drowned them out completely."

"He was a good king." Aegon concurred.

"Yes, he was. Though a short reign, it is remembered fondly as a time of unity and a rise to prosperity."

"Yet now disunity haunts me at every turn."

"Indeed. You must grow more, your Grace. You must find your own way just as he did. By sword or quill, you must learn more."

"I wouldn't know where to begin." Aegon tried to smile, but his great-uncle's words were a bit much to bear.

"Your dreams, your Grace. You see what you need in them. There you find yourself, your allies and your enemies all at once. Dragons and battles, all is within your reach to know."

"My dreams usually make no sense, they're a drunken bard singing a poor tune with no instrument."

"Your song is that of ice and fire, your Grace. Your late king father said so himself when you were born. So many letters he wrote, proclaiming you to be the one to lead Westeros into an era of great peace. He held this notion deep in his heart. And though in the end he was taken from us, many still believe what he believed in."

Usually when he spoke with his great-uncle Aemon, the king felt put at ease. Now though, the thought of people believing he was some sort of savior on account of the merits of his father made him extremely uncomfortable. And though Aemon was blind, Aegon could feel his stare as he looked down into his cup of water.

* * *

"Your Grace! Your Grace!" Connington shouted as he and Ser Barristan along with the Stark guard hurried through the quarters of the castle towards the roof. When they made it there, Syrio Forel was standing among five corpses with his blade bleeding their blood. The last one was kneeling before the Braavosi, held by the neck. His legs and arms were broken and Forel's sword was at his throat.

"Your Grace!" Ser Barristan looked around, horrified at the slaughter committed by the Braavosi and perhaps also Robb Stark.

"Now, who is your master? You only have so many things I can break. And Syrio Forel is not a patient man." Syrio jested to the apparently uncooperative assassin.

"Gods be good." Ser Jon looked at the corpses and then to Forel who had eyes only for the man he was clutching. Ned Stark held his arm still, Robb gripped Ice firmly in his hands, the blade still wet with fresh blood. And Aegon stood behind Robb who had shielded him, taking a wound on his shoulder, though it was not deep like Lord Stark's arm.

* * *

Aegon sighed as he went back out into the cold. In the end, the assassin bit off his own tongue and they had to flee Winterfell immediately. Syrio Forel remained behind, having no desire to see the great Wall but rather preferred to work with the younger of his pupils. Aegon didn't even have a chance to say goodbye to Arya or Bran, or ask them what they had been doing. And Sansa, Lord Stark had sent a raven, the girl was in tears for the entire night and pleaded with her father not to blame her. Aegon couldn't hold a girl so sweet accountable, Jon Connington said that could be a weakness, but the king decided to pardon her. She did no wrong as he saw it, merely was confused and manipulated. Ned Stark though was unsure if he agreed, and apparently went into shock himself over the entire ordeal.

As the king walked along the bridge between the keeps, the training yard went quiet once more. Though this time, Aegon noticed it wasn't because of him. Glancing down into the yard, he saw everyone was facing the massive iron gate that led into the tunnel under the Wall. Rangers had returned while he was in the library, and they were dragging in their finds from beyond the Wall.

"Gods be good. More dead men." One of the lads said, backing away from the corpse that was pulled in on a sled.

"A ranger..." Another said just as frightened.

"Lord Mormont." It was Benjen Stark, First Ranger of the Watch. "Another of our own, dead as any man could be I'm sad to say."

"Wildlings?" The Old Bear asked, his hand on his sword hilt as he examined the dead man.

"We think so, but no attack like we've seen to do this." Benjen answered. Aegon looked behind him as the library door opened and Samwell Tarly came out in his cloak, heading down the stairs. For a boy so afraid of speaking to a king, he moved forward with great courage to see the body. Aegon followed him, standing on a platform to look down while Samwell went right up to the dead ranger. He took only a few moments to examine the body.

"Preserved, like the others, Lord Commander." Samwell looked up at the Old Bear who nodded.

"Put him with the other two in the cellars." Lord Mormont said gruffly. Ben Stark nodded and signaled his rangers to fulfill the commander's orders.

"The Wall is a terrifying place." Aegon looked behind him to see Jon Snow. "They've told me stories, your Grace. I've heard them before, but now..."

"You think there's more to these stories than being an old nan's tale?" Aegon asked and Jon nodded grimly.

"I'll speak to my uncle. Maybe..."

"If you're thinking to run off and join the Night's Watch. Remember your oath is already given." Aegon said, far more harshly than he had intended. "Unless you wish to fail me."

"I know, your Grace. I've no wish to do that." Jon Snow frowned. Everyone was on edge. The king because of his sleep, the Night's Watch because of the cold and now dead men. And Jon Snow because he too knew that something was terribly wrong.

The day was short, being so far in the North now. The moon rose as the Watch ate their supper in the great hall that no longer whistled and brought in cold frost through the cracks. All the boys and men ate slightly better than what they were used to, the Kingsguard ate more or less normally what they were familiar with. And Connington's squire sat in the back as he always preferred to, drinking some watered down wine.

Aegon tabled with the Lord Commander and his men as he normally had, breaking bread and eating a roasted pig that had been brought up for the king. Lord Mormont was a man who made good conversation, but the king felt himself unable to respond much. He ate little and drank even less, something was very disturbed in the air. The Watch took little notice but Aegon felt uneasy, as if the darkness from his dreams had returned and made its way into his waking world. It was eating away at him just as the Lord Commander was tearing apart the roasted pig.

The room seemed to be a haze through Aegon's eyes, his ears ringing and head swimming. He couldn't get the image of the dead man out of his mind, and knowing that two more were in the cellar did little to ease his mind. Could the dead walk? It seemed like a crazed idea but Aegon felt it to be true, truer than anything he'd ever known though he of course had never seen it. Perhaps he was simply unnerved, anxious and too-greatly deprived of sleep.

Yet looking past Mormont, Aegon saw his old uncle feeling just as nervous. The king had to think clearly for a moment, just a moment to listen, to hear what was wrong. His dreams had told him, of the cruel icy face and sharp hands gripping his neck. With luminous armor and eyes as pale as pale could be, a whaling cry and a hovering dark mist that was devouring his body. To the king, it seemed as if he dreamed of one of the Others, of a White Walker. Then he suddenly heard it, a growl. It was Ghost outside of the hall.

"The dead men walk." Aegon announced as he stood up, all went silent. "Ser Barristan, my sword! Lord Mormont, Castle Black is in danger."

"Your Grace... I think you need to sit down and-" The Old Bear tried to calm the king, but as the knight brought Aegon his sword, he drew the blade.

"There's no time. Jon Snow-" Aegon looked around. "Where's Snow?"

Jon kicked his feet into the groin and belly of the dead man, toppled on top of the boy and squeezing his neck tight. He had slipped out upon hearing his wolf, only to find himself in the midst of the dead men. Snow could make little sound, the only sound in the courtyard was Ghost growling as he tried to fight off the other two dead men who were trying to grab the direwolf. The wolf snapped its jaws at the hands of the dead men, biting into their stiff flesh to no avail. Even a finger was ripped off one yet it made no flinch of pain or attempt to back away. The dead did not defend themselves, only relentlessly attacked with fierce brutality.

"Snow!" Aegon called out as he shoved open the hall doors, behind him all the men of the Watch watched him with puzzled expressions. The king's eyes went wide as he saw Jon Snow on the ground being strangled, the two rangers who had brought the third dead man to the cellar were laying on the ground with their jaws ripped off and heads smashed in.

"Mormont!" The king called but did not wait as he charged forward, sword in hand as he took a swing at the dead man killing Jon. Only Ser Barristan and Ser Connington followed the king at first, but soon others would follow.

"Gods be good." Jaime muttered as he saw the scene, turning back to Mormont who was taking his time to walk to the door. "The dead men walk! Your swords! Grab your damn swords!"

"Westeros!" Aegon shouted as he dug his sword into the skull of the dead man, the blade sinking in deep with absolutely no effect. Jaime Lannister led the other Kingsguard into the field, attacking at the other two dead men while the Watch staggered to assemble.

"Casterly Rock!" Jaime called out as his blade pierced the neck of one of the dead, though he stumbled back as the dead man turned his head and grabbed the knight and threw him far across the yard. There was a loud snap as Jaime hit the ground and cried out in pain. Ser Connington and Ser Barristan both joined the king in attacking the dead man holding down Snow, Barristan managed to force the man to stumble with great effort. Connington then shoved the dead man causing him to at last fall over and release Jon Snow who was heaved up by his mentor. The dead man snarled, the king's sword still lodged in his brain.

"Protect the king!" Ser Barristan rang out as the other two dead men now ignored the wolf, no longer considering it a worthy plaything as they eyed the knights who took down their fellow. That same fellow was getting up rather easily, sliding the sword from his skull and now wielding it with a strange mastery. The Watch came out and formed a defensive line as the Kingsguard fell back, two boys helping Jaime Lannister to his feet. The entire time, Ser Jaime did not relinquish his grip on his sword, though it was obvious that his arm was likely broken.

"Gods be good." Mormont grumbled as he drew Longclaw. "Men of the Watch! Prepare!"

"Wait!" The king commanded, much to the Old Bear's surprise.

"Your Grace!" The Bear snapped, he didn't have time to deal with a startled youth. Dead men walked in Castle Black, they needed to be taken down. Aegon stepped forward quite a way from the defensive line and removed his gloves, dropping them down into the snow.

"_Nauraer calagal tolenaim arendia lachunaru..._" Valyrian words rolled off the king's tongue like silk now as he held out both hands.

"Your Grace!" Connington put Jon Snow down, the boy gasping for breath still.

"Stay yourselves!" Aegon shouted as the dead men were quickly getting near him. "_Nauraer calagal tolenaim arendia lachunaru..._"

"Seven hells! Kingsguard! Protect the king!" Ser Barristan pushed through the Watch's line, Connington and the other knights following as they ran towards the king. Two of the deadmen seized Aegon's arms as the third lifted the sword up above its head, the king did not struggle as he let them hold him.

"_Nauraer calagal tolenaim arendia lachunaru...__Dracarys!_" A final word full of the power that Targaryen blood had etched into it. The Kingsguard slid to a halt as the three dead men and the king were engulfed in a roaring flame, as if a dragon had cast down the flames. The fire spiraled around the dead and the king, seemingly out of thin air with such a blazing heat that surely the Wall wept some.

"Your Grace!" Connington shouted as he went to rush into the fire, but Barristan stopped him just barely, Mormont had to step forward to help hold back to the knight.

"Stop Jon!" The old knight barked. The Griffon looked at his fellow, tears in his eyes as he watched the fire swallow the dead men who made a strange shriek as their bodies burned. No cry came from the king however as the ice around melted and turned to steam. This unnatural fire blazed endlessly, and as the dead men fell to a true death, the figure of the king could be seen. His clothes were aflame and flickering into the wind as mere ash.

Jon Snow stumbled to his feet, the nearby Samwell helping him up and staying him. The squire squinted his eyes as he watched. There was a laughter, a cold dark laugh that came from the king, it was not the king's voice that echoed. And as Snow kept looking, he saw the great wolf cloak flicker and burn, turned to ash that the wind carried off into the night.A dark omen.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: That's not eery whatsoever I'm sure. Though perhaps now this will be the start of more plot thickening, since now Aegon is technically done his trip and will be heading back to Winterfell, then White Harbor, then to King's Landing. What could possibly go wrong? I tried playing with flashbacks this chapter, I think I like how it turned out :) Remember to review or Cersei will murder Tyrion!...!

_**Review Response**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the review! I absolutely agree. While I'm not fond of Stannis, it's indisputable that he's very intelligent. His only weakness is his power-hunger and beautiful women, such as Cersei. It's of course her plot, and it's no surprise she twists Stannis to do what she wants while pulling the wool over his eyes. I suppose I never made it clear as to whether Stannis knows Aegon is alive or not ;)

_**Review Response #2**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the comments! Well it's not _quite_ a surprise since they did discuss it in a previous chapter ;) but it should all come together in two to three chapters. And Stannis, well Stannis is a man who trusts few but when he does then he struggles with his own judgement. Like with Melisandre, Stannis is bent to Cersei's desires. They just had a baby so obviously she's still... providing for him. I wouldn't say overall Stannis is manipulable but certainly by strong women he is.

_**Review Response #3**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks for the review! Well my impression of Renly is that he's rather full of himself both in-book and on screen, so I thought it'd be suiting for him to be rather nonchalant about Aegon's 'death' since he knows it's a setup. And the fact that he's intolerant of his brother both in this AU and canon, I tried to make him come across as more sarcastic and exaggerating with his reactions.

_**Review Response #4**_: To Guest (whom I suspect is HermioneandMarcus), thanks for the comments! I'm glad you're still enjoying it!

_**Review Response #5**_: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks for the review! Yes Arya will hopefully get a few key chapters of her own. Along with others, of course ;) And I've always seen Renly as a plotty one, like when he approached Ned Stark, so I thought it would be suiting for him to pseudo team-up with Tyrion.

_**Review Response #6**_: To Lord Purity, thanks for the review! And thanks for thinking it's awesome, glad you like it! :)

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	18. Chapter 17 - The Escape

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 17: The Escape**

She slammed her fists onto the table after she threw down the letter. Standing up, she began to pace around with her arms crossed. Maester Pycelle discreetly took a few steps back while Daenerys sat there, no longer wishing to finish breaking her fast.

"I can't believe this." Rhaenys hissed. "Why would Lord Tyrion abandon his post? Does he think he can vacation anywhere he wants anytime he pleases? That damned Imp!"

"My princess..." Pycelle began but went quiet as the Dragoness glared at him with great ferocity.

"That little bastard. That hedgewit!"

"Rhae... Lord Tyrion wouldn't do this without reason." Daenerys tried to calm her, but her niece seemed to only get angrier.

"I'll skin him myself and bring Aegon his skull as a trophy for the Great Hall! He loves those dragon bones so much, his head can sit inside Balerion's maw!"

"Princess, Lord Tyrion is only going to Casterly Rock for a fortnight. He surely will return-"

"Silence!" Rhaenys shouted at Maester Pycelle. "Leave us. Send no reply. Go now. Now!"

"Rhae..." Danerys said meekly as Pycelle slithered away with his head lowered. Rhaenys waited a few moments after Pycelle left then hurried to snatch the letter.

"It's a trick." Rhaenys suddenly was trembling as she re-read the letter. "Lord Tyrion didn't write this. He's not going to Casterly Rock... or if he is, it's not of his own will."

"What do you mean? What are you saying Rhae?" Daenerys stood up and went over to stand beside Rhaenys and read the letter with her.

"I'd stake my life that Tyrion's sister had this written."

"What should we do? No one is guarding the Iron Throne..."

"We have to leave." Rhaenys whispered. "The Gallant Dragon, it's the only way to reach Aegon fast enough."

"Do you suppose it's the Baratheons?" Dany frowned. "Or do you think Viserys is pulling the strings?"

"I don't know. For all we know the Baratheons are readying for another rebellion and they want to put that little serpent brother of yours on the Iron Throne until Stannis has the strength to completely take it for himself." Rhaenys took a breath and tore up the letter.

"We have to tell Aegon." Danerys put her hands over Rhaenys', both nodding to each other.

"The Gallant Dragon. We can do this." Rhae sighed softly, trembling a bit less.

They went to their chambers as they normally would, and Dany sat at her vanity to let her ladies brush her hair and adorn it with small pearls and onyx. She took soft, quiet breaths to maintain her calm. Surely she could trust her own ladies, but something inside her whispered to trust no one, not a soul. This was a Targaryen matter, and while she was not above the help of others, there were those who would rather do her harm. Daenerys dressed out of her morning gown and her ladies slipped her into a lavender one to match her eyes. Gold buttons and tiny silver dragon heads embroidered into the sleeves. All was as it normally would be for her.

Rhaenys on the other hand took a much different approach. She entered into her room to find her ladies waiting for her, normally as they would. Though this princess was not willing to chance anything.

"My princess." They said quietly in unison as they curtsied.

"I wish to bathe." Rhae announced and two of the ladies nodded, slipping away to one of the side bathing room. The third lady slowly approached to help the princess out of her dress, but Rhaenys lifted a hand.

"No." Rhaenys said with a commanding tone, glancing towards her bathing salon. "Help them."

With no hesitation whatsoever, her lady nodded and went to join the other two in preparing the bath. Rhaenys moved fast before the ladies would ready the bath then need to leave to fetch the hot water. She grabbed the door by the large handles and pulled them shut with the three ladies still inside, grabbing a nearby tall candle holder and sliding it down between the handles. As the doors jiggled, Rhaenys ignored the frightened remarks of the ladies trapped inside.

Her attention turned to the far side of the room where a heavy chest sat with four locks. Pulling a key from underneath her bedside table, Rhaenys unlocked only one of the locks and lifted the chest open. The other three were fakes to deter the curious. Inside laid armor, a full helm, leather clothing, and a broadsword. Ignoring the knocks and shouts, Rhaenys stripped naked with great haste, tearing her dress as it fell to the ground. There she stood in the nude, laying out what she would need with no sense of modesty that she normally portrayed.

* * *

Daenerys tried not to pace, truly she tried to keep herself occupied mentally as she awaited her niece in the great foyer. Back and forth, back and forth, Dany seemed to march from spot to spot as she fiddled with her fingers. Perhaps for the first time in her life, she felt afraid for herself. Certainly Viserys frightened her but she knew that his rage ended somewhere, yet now there was a definite enemy waiting to strike at the Targaryens. Her thoughts stopped as did her pacing when the soft sound of armor began to echo in the corridors, perhaps it was already too late for her. She felt her heart race, if only she had thought to bring a weapon of some sort. A sword, a dagger, a club, anything.

From around the corner came a small-framed, slender and tall knight with armor as tight as a corset would be on a lady. Thin plates with floral etchings across them, a lovely full-helm sitting on the knight's shoulders with pluming feathers peaking it. Daenerys felt herself blush with some humility before the sight of valiance-incarnated. In his hands he held an unsheathed broadsword, and soon Daenerys' admiration returned to a sense of fear.

"Dany." The knight spoke, very effeminately though the voice was muffled a great deal. It took her a moment to realize...

"Rhaenys?"

"Of course. Who else were you waiting for?"

"Oh my goodness. Rhae... you're Ser Dorgar!" Daenerys remember the swift, dashing knight who had bested Viserys in the melee for the king's nameday tourney and won the day. Just before Aegon had been shot with an arrow.

"Well... yes, I mean, there isn't _really_ any House Dorgar. I just... invented the name." Rhaenys gave a shrug, never having planned to reveal her hobbies to her family. Or to anyone for that matter, even Varys didn't know with all his little birds to boast of.

"You truly are amazing." Daenerys said, back in a state of admiration all over again.

"Yes while that's true, we really need to get going." Rhaenys walked through the foyer, gesturing for her aunt to follow. Entering into one of the smaller solariums that seemed to have become rather disused, Rhae went over to the wall, reached up and pushed against a section of the bricks, soon the entire wall seemed to shift and open.

"A secret passage." Daenerys said, hardly surprised. The Red Keep held a thousand secrets, passages were just a portion of them. Aegon may have been thought to have mastered them, but it was Rhaenys who had mapped out the passages in her head over the years.

"This is how that Stark girl got in here. It's safe to say no one else would know of it I think." Rhaenys glanced over her shoulder and nodded her head towards the passage. "We should hurry."

While this hadn't been the sort of thing Daenerys had in mind, she nodded in agreement and soon followed after Rhae into the dark passage. With sword in one hand and her aunt's wrist in the other, Rhaenys walked through the unlit corridor and stairways blindly. She carefully led Dany each step of the way, though she dared not hesitate in such a place. Even if it meant risking tripping, they needed to move and push forward. Though she was blind in the dark, Rhaenys confidently walked through the passage, pushing open a few more walls to open into other parts. Some were dry and dusty while others had moss and dripping water in them.

Dany said nothing, her quick breathing spoke all the things she had no courage to say. Rhaenys knew her aunt was afraid, she was too were she to admit it. Yet still they pressed on, on and on until they came to another wet passage, this one with a ceiling grate that let in minimal light. And there they stopped. Pushing Daenerys behind her, Rhae held out her sword to the dark figure blocking their way.

"Who are you?" Rhaenys lifted off her helm and slipped it back into her aunt's hands, she needed to see as clear as possible in this dark place.

"A man has many names. At times one is given. For now it is not." He answered, Rhaenys could see he had a dagger. Only a dagger and nothing more, she wanted to think he'd be no challenge, but something worried her.

"Move or die." She warned him.

"You make a threat with no backing. You may be cunning but in strength you are lacking."

"Do not mock me." She hissed, though no warning she could give would make the man flinch. Rhaenys was used to making those around her cringe in fear, for her title not her temper. She knew this all too well from being a part of the outside world from time to time.

"Mock? I make no mockery."

"I don't have time for you. I'll say it again, move or die!"

"Time, there is much for some. For you, there is none." He whispered. His footsteps were quick as he dashed, the small puddles splashing around. Rhaenys moved forward and swung her sword with great confidence. An upward cut coming from the side, it was deflected with ease by the man's dagger. Much to Rhae's surprise. Her took a jab at her, but she blocked it with her sword, grabbing the blade with her gauntlet and using it to push back his strikes. Finally, he retreated back slightly just out of her range.

"A girl has skill. Yet a girl is a fool." He said before charging again, this time going on the outside of the room. Rhaenys watched as best she could as the figure slipped in and out of the shadow, watching for his small blade. Though when it never came, her eyes went wide as she realized what he intended to do. As quick as she could, she stepped in to put herself between him and Daenerys, and the blade made its appearance. While she did manage to block it, the dagger came within an inch of her face as it deflected upward. It seemed as if Dany hadn't been his target, only a diversion. Far too close a call for the princess' liking. Though again, the man retreated.

"A girl is brave. Yet a girl is a fool. Why is this?"

"Mind who you call a girl." Rhae hissed, easing Daenerys back who wasn't trembling oddly enough. It was Rhaenys who did all the shaking for them.

"The Red God is pleased with such a girl. Much death is offered to him on her sword."

"Who are you? Others take you!"

"I am of no name, and of no one. No person. No place. Only death."

"What you were offered, faceless assassin, I offer more." Rhaenys pointed her sword at him. She knew of the guild, she knew of their means. There wasn't much leeway however, and that frightened her.

"More? There can be no more, one payment, one sacrament. This is the way."

"You were hired by a noble. Gold. I offer life."

"Life? Certainly worth more than gold. I am listening."

"Name a name."

"Those are my words."

"Name a name and this name will die."

"A girl is brave, a girl is wise. Such a bargain, I cannot refuse."

"Name a name." She repeated.

"Aegon Targaryen."

"Name another name."

"Rhaenys Targaryen." She couldn't see it, but she could hear him smiling.

"Name a name not of myself, friend or kin!" She snapped.

"This was not the intended bargain. I gave two names. You gave me none."

"Name a name besides ones I protect."

"I was only given two names. There are no more to give."

"What?" Rhaenys frowned and bit her lip. Someone wanted her and Aegon dead, but not Viserys or Daenerys. This worried her a great deal, perhaps her theory was right. They would put the serpent on the throne, and then Stannis would take it using Daenerys to seal his place on it by marrying her off to his son.

"Aegon Targaryen. Rhaenys Targaryen. Two names. Two deaths."

"Stannis Baratheon. Tywin Lannister."

"What of them? Two names that do not match mine."

"I'll give you those names in exchange for yours." Rhaenys answered.

"This was not the bargain, I cannot accept."

"Then that settles it." Rhaenys readied herself but the man only laughed.

"A girl is brave, a girl is wise. The Red God smiles. These names will go unmarked for now. Sacrament of such servants is a disgrace. I will look elsewhere. Next we meet, perhaps then we can decide who shall greet the Red God." The man said, but before Rhaenys could speak he moved into the shadows and was gone completely. Rhae began to give chase but decided it was stupid to run after him in the dark, most rooms wouldn't be lit like this one. And she knew full well that she couldn't find a faceless assassin if she couldn't see. All of this frustrated her greatly.

"Rhae..." Daenerys said as she walked over to her niece.

"He knew we were here. Someone sent him. And he waited here. He waited here for us... for... for me." Rhaenys sheathed her sword, and only now realized just how much she trembled. Though she squeezed her hands into fists. "Damn them all..."

Dany didn't know what to say, she couldn't find words. All she could do was take Rhae's hand and walk with her through the puddles, her silk lavender dress all muddied and wrinkled. The dark passages greeted them once more, but Rhaenys could no longer move with blind confidence.

* * *

Though they had set out in the morning, the late afternoon sun was what greeted them as they came out of a long musky tunnel. The smell of fish was overpowering, and the sound of gulls screeching was all that could be heard over the noise of markets. Dany was again a little frightened, but Rhaenys knew exactly where they were. Rhae wasted no time in glancing around, eying a sack of potatoes. Kicking them over she took her sword and sliced the sack open, ripping it so it was more like a shawl.

"Fishmonger's Market is no place for a Targaryen princess to be seen." Rhae whispered as she wrapped the sack around Dany like a short cape. Rhaenys had her helm, but Daenerys had all the features and luxuries to be identified quickly.

"Is the Gallant Dragon nearby?" Dany asked, lifting the sack over her head like a hood before pulling it tight around her. It covered her almost from the waist down, and her dress was rather dirty, so perhaps she might not be so obvious.

"Through the River Gate. It's supposed to leave dock tomorrow. This will be a long trip, but we have to get to Aegon." Rhae sighed as Dany nodded.

"Let's go then." Daenerys stepped around her niece and led the way down the street. She had never been in this area of King's Landing, but all she needed to do was follow the sound of the gulls and move towards the towers of the River Gate. The pair moved quickly, there wasn't anyone in the streets besides small children who paid them no attention. Everyone would be at the market and main streets until sundown, arguing over the smallest details of a deal.

Muddy Way was simply that, muddy. Going through half of King's Landing, the slopped street was a mess to behold. The street had playing urchins and old sickly men sitting on the sides. Women with baskets of fish and bread, men with harpoons and rolled up nets. Still no one paid them much heed. Glancing down the narrow alleyways, Dany could see the towers of the Red Keep poking between the buildings. So close to home yet so far, she felt like she might not see the Red Keep for quite some time. It made her sad to know it was true.

"We'll be fine." Rhaenys assured her, feeling Dany's tension.

"I know." Dany answered quietly. "I know."

"Aegon will punish Stannis when he returns."

"What about your mother?" Daenerys asked, only now thinking that Queen Elia was left behind.

"She's strong. They have no reason to harm her."

"Of course." Daenerys sounded less sure than Rhae had, but still, what choice was there? Elia Martell was too weak to travel, she would be better off at the Red Keep until her son returned.

"I wish father was still alive." Rhaenys muttered, Dany hadn't known her niece to speak of the Bard King before. Aegon was the same as her, neither liked to bring up the memory of a man who had been broken by war and died from an old festering battle wound.

"I'm sure Aegon will fix everything." It was Dany's turn to offer some reassurance, though it didn't seem to help much.

"Aegon is still learning. No one was around to teach him to rule. Tywin pulled the strings, mother locked him up. It's no wonder we both ventured outside the Red Keep. I was just lucky enough not to be born a prince, or else people might actually notice I was missing."

"Rhae... that's... Your mother, Aegon, so many of us care about you."

"I know." Rhaenys glanced down at Daenerys. "I'm just grateful to have been born a woman and not a boy. I couldn't sit on the Iron Throne. I need freedom."

"We all do, I think." Dany replied which made her niece laugh softly, though she stopped as they heard a shout.

"Hurry with those barrels! If those Dornish sailors start another fight, the dowager queen will hear of it!" A stern voice called out as the pair made their way to the River Gate.

"Commander Stokeworth..." Rhae grumbled. Surely the commander of the city watch wouldn't recognize them immediately, but if given a look at Dany's hair, he might figure it out. The two hurried past the commander and a few gold cloaks who glanced at them. Watching the pair rush by was more than enough to arouse suspicion.

"Halt! Who are you ser? And who is this wench?" One of the city watch called out. Rhaenys didn't look back and she put an arm around Daenerys, both of them still briskly walking.

"We said halt! In the name of King Aegon!" Another city watch called, this was getting the commander's attention.

"You there! Stop immediately!" Stokeworth called out and soon began hurrying after them with a dozen gold cloaks behind him.

'_Seven Hells..._' Rhae cursed this meeting, of all days for the commander to be at the River Gate, it had to be today. Rhaenys took Dany by the hand and the two bolted through the gate towards the wharf.

"Stop them!" Stokeworth called out, one of the gold cloaks on the other side of the gate heard and moved to grab the pair. All he managed to pull at was the potato sack which Daenerys gladly let him have as they ran. Behind them the gold cloaks were giving slow chase, their armor slowing them down. Though Rhaenys too wore armor, her plates was feather light. While this meant she was quick, she truly did not wish to ever feel a sword strike her, for the armor would surely shatter.

"Stop in the name of the king!"

"Grab them!"

The shouts went on and on as the pair ran down the wharf. The Gallant Dragon was in sight, but Rhaenys made a horrific discovery. The Gallant Dragon was a great ship, it could not dock at King's Landing and had to remain in the Blackwater Bay up the river with the royal fleet. Supplies and sailors were taken in row boats to the ship. Still though, they had no choice but to continue running. All it took was for Rhaenys and Daenerys to glance back for them to fall into a trap.

"Gotcha!" A voice growled as four men grabbed the girls and pulled them behind some large crates, holding them down and covering their mouths. Rhae's helm was tossed into the water, and the men waited for the gold cloaks to run by.

"What do we do with them?" One of the men asked to another. Dornish sailors, with sun-burned skin and dry features.

"Let's take them to the captain. Princesses are valuable nowadays I hear." The first answered, his grin terrified the girls who couldn't move, couldn't scream.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: So Rhaenys and Daenerys finally get their sort-of own chapter, only to get grabbed at by dirty sailors. What could possibly go wrong with that? The next chapter is already in the works, mainly an Arya chapter with some flashbacks so far, we'll see how it turns out. I'm hoping the chapter will be able to focus on a more direct relationship between Aegon and Arya since most of their interaction is in the background. So slowly we're getting to the good parts of the story, but there's still a long way to go for Aegon's tale!

_**Review Response**_: To kaka, thanks for the comment! Glad you're liking it!

_**Review Response #2**_: To Zireael07, thanks for the review! Happy that you think it was good :)

_**Review Response #3**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the review! I did try to give the assassins a Lannister-feel to them, so perhaps they were sent by Cersei! And Melisandre isn't very self-serving (I think anyways), so likely she was either trying to get back at Arya and Bran or she actually was trying to protect Aegon. Who could say? Glad you liked the fighting scene! I'm not much for them, but it was fun to try. As for the fire magic, did he _really_ learn or was it a fluke? Hm hm. You'll find out next chapter! As for renly and Brienne, they're likely only halfway to the Vale if that, it'll take time before they get to the Eyrie.

_**Review Response #4**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the review! Glad you liked the flashback. The spell is a mix of Latin and Tolkien's Sindarin, thrown together rather roughly to make a pseudo-Valyrian. In my crazed brain it (very) roughly translates to 'holiest of light (gods?) I summon endless burning (dragon)fire'. I honestly had no ideas of what to put but I felt something was needed to give that extra umph for Aegon's fire tricks.

_**Review Response #5**_: To HermioneandMarcus, thanks for the comments! I'm glad you're still enjoying it!

_**Review Response #6**_: To ikatiewhite, thanks for the review! Glad you like it so far :)

_**Review Response #7**_: To The Black King, thanks for the comments! Glad you're liking it. Well Jon Snow can't become part of the Kingsguard since there are always Seven White Swords, so basically new Kingsguard are only added when other ones die off since it's a service unto death. He can be knighted either by Jon Connington or Aegon, but these things take time. Don't worry, when he gets in, it'll be a fireworks show.

_**Review Response #8**_: To Andrea, thanks for the review! I'm very appreciative of your appreciation, I'm glad I'm able to deliver a decent story :) And yeah, Aemon was a fun character to bring into this. He's technically not Aegon's uncle, he's his great-great uncle I believe. Same idea, but still, Aemon is ooold. I'm very much getting into dreams in this story, they're a very interesting literary tool. And yeah, the fire scene, I didn't want it to be like Aegon was shooting out fire. I wanted it to be raw, uncontrolled, and not even Aegon knew what to expect (he probably through he'd shoot fire too). And don't feel bad at all, I'm horrid with my spelling and even worse with my grammar! I enjoy being corrected so I can improve myself as a writer :) So thank you a great deal!

_**Review Response #9**_: To AlphaFartOfDoom, thanks!

_**Review Response #10**_: To Heart of Lies, thanks for the review! And thank you for such an encouraging comment! :) I'll continue to do my best!

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	19. Chapter 18 - In Sight of the Old

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 18: In Sight of the Old  
**

"I heard he set Castle Black on fire. The entire Wall was weeping!" One of the middle-aged servant women said to another who gasped.

"I heard the same! They say that it took half the Night's Watch to take him down."

"Like a beast!"

Arya rolled her eyes, having stopped for a moment to listen in on the day's gossip. Aegon's return from the Wall left Winterfell cackling with all kinds of stories. The king could turn into a dragon, the king fought off an army of assassins, the king had broken his arm. Each time Arya heard someone talk about it, it seemed to only get further and further from the truth. Though what the complete truth was, she hadn't the slightest clue. The broken arm story she knew came from Jaime Lannister's arm which was in a splint. The army of assassins was of course the six who had attacked Aegon, Robb and her father on the eve that the king fled northward. The same night that the Red Priestess had run away. The rest though was a blur of fiction from clucking old hens who had nothing better to do.

The only thing that Arya could stand less than the runaway gossip was Sansa. The day Aegon came back, Sansa was suddenly a completely different person. Her sister had made the amazing transformation from a lovesick maiden to a devout servant. She tended to Aegon tirelessly, and not in the same way she had before. When she was fawning over the king, she would giggle for him and ask about things belonging to the world of men. Not to mention she went crazed each time Arya got even remotely close to Aegon. Now she was calm and quiet, all the time. It was as if she were trying to make amends, or how Arya saw it, to impress.

* * *

Aegon had ridden in on his steed, wearing a crimson and black hooded cloak. He was accompanied by his Kingsguard and the rest of the entourage who mostly rode on horseback or in wagons. Though he seemed rather injured still, Ser Jaime rode with the Kingsguard diligently even if his sword arm was useless for the time being. Whether it was his Lannister pride at stake or some strange devotion to service, no one dared ask.

The courtyard was filled with the citizenry of Winterfell, headed by Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully who had returned from Riverrun whilst the king had been at the Wall. Beside them was Robb, then Sansa, then Arya, then Brandon. Rickon was with his mother, clutching her cloak with a great fear that she would leave him again. He was the only one who did not bend the knee when Aegon paraded through the gate, instead he stared up at the king in wonder. To him, Aegon was still the great big man from a great big city, he wasn't afraid of him but certainly he was curious about the king who made his parents kneel. As the king dismounted, Eddard stood slowly to greet him, instead however it was Sansa who stepped forward.

"My king." The girl spoke softly, giving the deepest curtsy she could before Aegon who stood there, feeling uncertain. "Welcome back to Winterfell. The castle and its folk are at your disposal and service, your Grace. I hope that this visit will be much more pleasing than the last. To the old and new I swear to be a good and loyal servant to your Grace. Forever more."

* * *

Arya had to admit, Sansa put on a good show. Her lordly father was growing older with every surprise his children produced, he too had been impressed by Sansa's words and gesture. The king of course accepted her offered hospitality, why wouldn't he? He was to stay at Winterfell until word came that the Gallant Dragon would depart from Sweetport Sound and sail for White Harbor. And until then, Sansa seldom left the king's side when he was in need of something. The days rolled by slowly, and Aegon always woke to find a steaming hot bath awaiting him with his clothes selections laid out, all things seemed to be done without him asking, just as they would be in King's Landing. When he was not in need of anything, she seemed to back away without fuss. Arya was glad that Sansa was no longer fawning or wailing, the quiet did the castle some good, but she felt unsure about her sister's new attitude.

Hopping up onto a barrel, Arya walked along a row of them, climbing up a few then stepping down again. With a small jump, she landed back on the ground. Nimble and quiet as a cat would be, just like Syrio taught her to be. The wood of the barrels barely made a creak or thud with her weight on them, an improvement from months ago when she broke through a barrel after jumping onto it. Though now she was dexterous, she certainly wasn't as perceptive as she should be.

"Arya!" She felt her back stiffen as she turned her head up to see her mother.

"How many times did I tell you? No climbing or jumping off things." Catelyn said rather firmly from the balcony, moving along it quickly as she headed for the stairs.

"I was practicing." Arya shrugged, it was half-true.

"Ladies do no go around leaping from barrels." Her mother scolded.

"Syrio says-"

"I don't care what Master Forel says, you are not to climb onto or jump from things in the courtyard." Catelyn said then quickly added. "Or anywhere else."

"Yes mother." Arya made a face and Catelyn lightly pinched her cheek.

"You and Bran, you're growing up so fast. I have to mother you as much as I can before you're married off."

"Married off? What about Sansa? She's older. She'll be married first. I think she needs mothering." Arya joked, sort-of joked.

"Sansa is fine on her own Arya, it's you I'm worried about." Catelyn pulled her daughter into her arms and hugged her in the middle of the courtyard.

"Mother...you're... squishing me." Arya grumbled and Catelyn let her go, much to Arya's relief.

"You're all important to me, you know that right?"

"Yes mother." Arya quietly answered. Ever since returning from Riverrun, it seemed like Catelyn was very protective of the family, more than ever before with the reminder of mortality. As well Catelyn had a renewed excitement for grandchildren since half her children were at the age to be wedded.

"Good, because I'm going to remind you every day."

"Where's Ser Connington?" Arya asked after a long awkward pause, trying to somehow escape. Catelyn made a face, both of them knew she wasn't looking for the Kingsguard, but rather his squire.

"I think he's in the great hall with the king." Her mother answered. Ser Connington was with the king in the great hall, but of course so was Jon Snow. And Catelyn knew that, but never would she admit it. Just breathing his name made her heart ache. Arya nodded to her mother's answer and hurried off towards the hall.

"Arya! Careful, don't run so fast!" Catelyn called after her, throwing her arms up and sighing. Having heard of Arya's debut as a lady, Lady Stark felt a small glimmer of hope that perhaps her daughter was maturing. Alas, Arya was still a wild she-wolf.

"_Nauraer calagal tolenaim arendia lachunaru dracarys!_..._Dracarys!_"

"My king, are you certain those are the words? I've never known Old Valyrian spells to be spoken as a sentence, but rather as a chant or series of short phrases." Maester Luwin asked, looking at Aegon hold out an arm. The great hall had been cleared of the tables so that the king might have a place to practice. Yet for all he did, no flame was summoned by his words.

"I'm certain those are the words I spoke at the Wall." Aegon answered, lowering his arm.

"Your Grace, great skill comes with practice. You were in a stressful situation, it caused you to-" Ser Connington tried to assure his king.

"I felt the power though! I felt the fire on my fingertips, in my body. All I had to do was call it out. A great dragon fire, roaring to be released." Aegon sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was getting frustrated. Even Arya could tell even though she only watched for a few moments, peeking into the great hall. She saw Jon standing on the side, he too was watching Aegon practice, he had witnessed the roar the king spoke of. And the burning of the dead men.

"Are you sure it was your power?" The squire asked, Aegon glanced over at Snow.

"What do you mean am I sure it was _my_ power?"

"You weren't yourself." Jon answered.

"You've told me that enough already." Aegon hissed. There seemed to be a great tension between the two ever since they returned.

"Enough you two." Ser Connington spoke up, the king looked up at him with some anger, but the stare from the knight subdued him.

"I'll practice again on the morrow." Aegon grumbled as he walked by the knight and left the great hall without so much as glancing at anyone, his eyes lowered to the ground. Ser Connington and the other two Kingsguard there followed after him. Jon meanwhile gathered the two swords that were meant to be the practice dummies, pulling them from the wooden silts that held them up. Arya stepped into the hall as servants began to move the heavy tables back into place.

"It's true then." Arya said as she walked up to her brother as he sheathed the second blade.

"Is what true?" Jon looked down at her.

"Aegon. He can use fire magic."

"Mmm that's what he says." Jon stepped around Arya, she quickly followed after.

"What do you mean he says? Can he or can't he?"

"I saw him do it. Once. Just once though." Jon didn't look at her, he didn't know how to explain it to his father let alone his sister.

"Did he really burn down Castle Black?" Arya asked, that made Jon laugh and he finally glanced down. She made a face at him. "I heard the servants saying so."

"And you believe wild gossip now?"

"No!... I just wanted to know if he did or not."

"Well he didn't. He- hey, Arya, leave that alone." He said, stopping as he noticed her trying to look at the longsword on his belt.

"Why do you have a dragon-headed sword?"

"It belongs to the king." Jon answered, glancing around before whispering. "Do you want to see it?"

"Do you have to ask?" Arya grinned. Jon grinned right back and gestured for her to hurry and follow him. In the armory he shut the door after being sure that no one saw Arya enter with him, and he put the two swords back in their place before he reached for the blade at his side. It sung out as he drew it, shining in the dim light of the armory.

"The Commander of the Watch gave it to the king." Jon knelt down and held the sword across his hands. "It was called Longclaw before, now Aegon calls it the Dragonclaw."

"Is it Valyrian?" Arya asked, admiring the perfect-looking sword. There were no scratches or marks on the blade, though somehow to her it looked well-used otherwise.

"Yes. Valyrian steel. It belonged to House Mormont, but now it's in Targaryen hands."

"Why did the commander give up his house's sword?" Arya asked a bit confused. Their lordly father would never give up Ice, and lesser houses under Lord Tywin declined to surrender their own swords even at the sight of a mountain of gold in exchange.

"He has no heir, and the king's magic seemed to humble him. I heard he spent a day trying to find where he had hidden it." Jon shrugged.

"Was it really such a thing to see?" Arya asked unknowingly. All the Night's Watch were terrified of Aegon when he let loose the great fire. Everyone was. Jon was.

* * *

"_Dracarys!_" That word rang out, making the air still. The Kingsguard had been running to protect their liege against orders but were forced to stop, just barely out of range of the inferno that suddenly appeared. A great roar, a gust of flaming wind that brought with it an unnatural heat that no fire could produce alone. The fires spiraled and danced around the king, completely destroying the dead men as they let out a shriek. As for Aegon, he laughed. The king's laugh sent a shiver down Jon Snow's spine, a deep and strange laughter that did not resemble Aegon's voice. The king, like his father, had a tone of iron. This was a voice of ice.

The wolf cloak was ashes on the wind, and the fire lit up all of Castle Black with its blaze. As it went down, the king stood before them naked as the day he was born. His skin seemed like embers from the dispersing flame, glowing softly and likely hot to the touch. The laughter too had left, almost altogether, but as the king turned round to face the stunned group of men, Jon felt a fear he hadn't known before. Aegon smiled cruelly at them, his eyes seemed bloodshot and weary, added to his ember-like skin, the king appeared to be some sort of demon. Though just as quickly as it all happened, it was over. Aegon collapsed into a deep sleep, for once a dreamless sleep, and he did not wake for two days.

* * *

"It was a scary thing to see." Jon admitted, raising his head to look at Arya.

"I thought they called Aegon the Dragon... don't dragons breath fire?" She asked him and he grinned again.

"Maybe." Jon stood up and looked at the sword. "Dragonclaw... I guess it suits the king then. A white blade with an ivory dragon-head pommel. I would have called it the White Dragon."

"Whitefyre." Arya muttered as she looked at the sword, Jon raised a brow and she looked up at him, shaking her head. "Nothing. White Dragon would have been a good name for it."

Jon looked at her still, knowing full well she wasn't letting on to something, but he let it slide.

"You best go before you get caught in here."

"I'll see you tonight." Arya nodded and walked towards the door, slipping out after checking to see if anyone was around. Before she shut the door, she looked back inside to see Jon swing the Valyrian bastard sword. It suited his hand, this blade she'd call Whitefyre.

Running through the courtyard, she saw Hodor pulling two horses along with him. Near the gate Aegon stood with Ser Connington, the other Kingsguard on the side boredly. Slowly Arya stopped running and watched as Aegon and the knight mounted the mares. She must have been staring because soon Aegon turned his head towards her.

"My lady Stark." She looked up at him with a scowl. He _knew_ she hated that.

"Your Grace." She answered ever-so-politely. The she-wolf even curtsied.

"Care to ride with us?"

"Thank you, my king, but I'm rather busy with... with things." Arya said, having had something fantastic to say but forgot it when it mattered.

"You're not afraid are you?" He pressed, she made a face at him. If he weren't the king, she'd hit him twice as often and three times as hard. Being around Jon all the time made him act more like her brothers. And even though they hadn't sparred in a long time, beating each other with wooden swords gave them a certain rivalry. Much to Syrio Forel's entertainment.

"Afraid? I might put you to shame with my riding.. skills." Arya had something again but it seemed to fade from her mind when she wanted to say it. Being around Aegon frustrated her, especially if she couldn't bruise him once or twice or six times.

"I'm a pretty good rider, my lady." Now he was grinning. Arya glanced around briefly, she couldn't throw a rock at him, could she?

"Very well. I accept your invitation." She hummed then looked at Hodor. "I'll need a horse."

"Hodor!" The half-giant said nodding, but he just stood there.

"A horse, Hodor." She repeated, the half-giant still nodding.

"Maybe if you make horse noises..." Aegon suggested quietly.

"Shut up." Arya snapped, glaring at him before looking up at Hodor again. "Hodor. I need you to saddle a horse for me."

"Hodor!" He seemed to finally understand and he hurried to the stable. Arya folded her arms and smiled at Aegon who laughed.

"This is worse than when you tried to get Nymeria to fetch your sparring sword." He said and all Arya could do was make another face at him as Hodor came out with a third mare, reaching over to help her onto it before she could protest.

"Are you... ready, my lady?" Aegon asked as he watched Arya shuffle around in the saddle, not sitting very lady-like. Her only answer as lightly kicking the horse, galloping off through the southern gate. The king did the same and Ser Connington followed right after Aegon.

"She is a wild one, your Grace." Connington remarked as they rode out, Aegon smirked a bit.

"She's wild alright, not like any other lady I've met."

The day was sunny but still there was a cold breeze around them as they made their way to the King's Road, soon going off it completely with Arya leading the way. The open field lay all around them, the trio galloping with Winterfell barely in sight. Soon the sparse woods greeted them and then the denser parts, the mares adjusting easily to the change of terrain as it became rocky and rough. The moss and dirt was flung up under the hooves of the horses as they raced through, small rocks being scattered, fallen trees being jumped over. It wasn't at all the casual ride it had meant to be.

Ser Connington remained seconds behind the king who was doing his best to keep chase after the wild she-wolf. Arya was going around trees and large rocks, turning left and right at random it seemed. For the boast of being a good rider, Aegon struggled to keep Arya in his sights as she sped around. Aegon may have been a talented rider but she knew the terrain like the back of her hand. Although each time she thought she had out-ridden him, he was there behind her somehow. Her white mare was easy to spot at least, perhaps that's why he was able to trail her, his eyes catching the sight of her amongst the trees.

Soon the forest became less and less thick until they rode out into the fields again, now southeast of Winterfell, but closer to it than they were before. Ahead of them was Winter Town, quiet and partially deserted even during these times of summer snows. The dirt road was crushed by the galloping hooves of the mares, a few citizens of the town standing aside to let the riders through. In no time at all they were back in the woods, Aegon still giving chase though by he time the trees were behind them once more, he was in front of Arya. Much to her dissatisfaction.

The mares were worn down after such a hard ride, it seemed like only moments they were riding but in fact nearly two hours had gone by since they left Winterfell. Now the sun was hanging way beyond noon, and as they trotted in through the north gate, the Godswood was glowing splendidly from the golden afternoon light. The trees were rustling quietly amongst themselves as Aegon dismounted to take in the scene. When he had first seen these woods, it had been during a cloudy morning, now it appeared to be a completely different place.

"I'll walk from here." Aegon glanced at the dismounting Ser Connington, holding out the reins of his horse to the knight. "Could you return the horses for us, Ser?"

"Of course, your Grace... but you shouldn't wander alone." The knight didn't want to displease Aegon, Ser Barristan was already feeling the irritation of the king at the Wall.

"Lady Arya, would you accompany... and keep me safe?" He grinned at her, she only rolled her eyes as she slid down from the horse and led it over to the Kingsguard.

"If I have to."

"You're most kind." Aegon still grinned at her, and she was so tempted to punch him in the arm. The king offered the same tempting arm to her and she took it, though she had intended to take it reluctantly and give him a stare of annoyance, she actually put her hand on his arm rather quickly. Ser Connington watched them for a time before he began to walk towards the main courtyard, leading the three mares with him to the stables where Hodor would be happy to receive them.

"It's beautiful here." Aegon said after a very long, and heavy silence as the pair strolled casually among the trees. A long way's off was the weirwood tree and the black watered pool, shimmering also in the sun's radiance.

"You get used to it." Arya shrugged a bit, still holding onto the king's arm.

"I could never get used to the North."

"Too savage for your taste, your Grace?" She half-hissed at him.

"Too beautiful beyond words for me to be here. A southerner with no understanding of what it is to be part of the First Men. I have the blood of Old Valyria, of the Andals, of the Rhoynar, but not of the First Men."

"I don't think that's how blood works..." Arya looked at him queerly.

"No? Hm." Aegon took a turn to shrug slightly.

"You're acting very strange lately." Arya grumble, tilting her head to glance right up at him. She noticed he was several inches taller now since they left King's Landing. While she had managed to see him during spars on the journey, she never really got a chance to be close to him except when they had danced. Though at that time she was too busy trying not to step on her own feet.

"What do you mean, strange?" He raised a brow at her. She also saw how long his hair was becoming, hanging across his neck and laying over his shoulder in a pony's tail that rested on the upper part of his chest.

"You're into magic now. And you fight with Jon. It was hard enough for us to learn to use sticks, now you want to set everything on fire."

"W-... I don't fight with Jon!" Aegon protested. They certainly had tension, but there was no all-out fighting, just mild bickering.

"You two used to have fun. Then you met that woman."

"Melisandre has nothing to do with Jon."

"I saw her talking to you, talking to Jon. She messed it all up. Everything!" Arya was starting to get upset, and angry.

"Where is all this coming from?" Aegon asked and she pushed his arm away.

"Why did you come back to Winterfell? Why don't you just go back to King's Landing!"

"Arya..." He looked genuinely hurt and she half-regretted losing her temper.

"I'm sorry. Fine, don't go. But you have to stop fighting with Jon!"

"Alright, alright... I won't fight with any of your brothers." Aegon wasn't sure what to think, but he definitely didn't want to spoil the afternoon.

"You have to promise!"

"I promise! I swear to the gods I won't fight with your brothers." Aegon held up his hands, afraid she'd take a swing at him any moment now. He glanced over in the distance and then to her again. "Come on."

"Where?"

"You'll see." He didn't wait for her and so she followed curiously. "Why are you so angry at me?"

"You run off all the time. We don't get to practice together like we used to."

"King's Landing was a much more manageable space." He glanced back at her. "I'm on a journey, so I'm not exactly in one spot for too long."

"You're not taking Syrio with you are you?"

"You can keep Master Forel, I'll pay for two years worth of training if it makes you happy." Aegon answered, feeling defeated at every turn. He stopped though when he realized that Arya wasn't trailing after him anymore.

"You mean it?" She asked, turning around he saw she was a ways from him. To him, Arya seemed stuck between being shocked and being ecstatic.

"Of course I mean it."

"Don't lie!" She warned him and he held up his hands again.

"I'm not lying. Why do you always have to assume the worst in me?"

"You change from time to time. Sometimes you're fun to be around, sometimes you're just stupid."

"That made me feel better." He rolled his eyes and went on walking.

"It's true!" She said, following again. "You get so caught up in things that aren't important that you forget what is important!"

"Like what?" He didn't want to have this discussion anymore, but he was curious.

"You practice magic when you don't even know how to use it. You rename an ancient sword to suit you. You run away from King's Landing just because you've never been outside its walls. What about the Seven Kingdoms? I thought it was your duty to protect and rule them."

"That's unfair!" He said, stopping again to turn and look at her. "You got to go travel away from the North to King's Landing, I was trapped there all my life!"

"You ran away from your responsibility. You should be on the Iron Throne, ruling, but you left. That makes you a coward!"

"A..." He couldn't even repeat her words, they stung enough as is. He sighed and turned away, walking towards the weirwood.

"Aegon?" He didn't answer her as he went around the pool of black water. She stood near him as he approached the ancient faced tree.

"Am I a coward?" He asked finally, staring at the face carved into the tree.

"You can still be a good king. I didn't mean..."

"You're right though. I am avoiding ruling... I don't know how to rule. I wanted to see the world, wanted to meet new people, see amazing places like the Wall. It was so cold there, I was so exhausted and I hated it so much." He sighed and shook his head.

"Promise me you'll be a good king from now on..."

"You're asking me to promise a lot today." He glanced at her, she seemed sad now, but Aegon couldn't help but grin playfully which made Arya frown.

"Don't make fun of me."

"Fine, fine..." Aegon glanced to the weirwood before kneeling down before it. "Old gods, I beg your attention. I am Aegon, King of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. The North is part of my dominion but I am no fit master for it yet. I swear to you, old gods of countless faces and figures, that from this day until my last day, I will strive. I will be a good king, worthy to be my father's son, to love each kingdom and its people, to protect all of them without bias. Never will I again run from my troubles, but instead charge them head on. False council will not reach my ears if I may help it. And good council will be taken to heart always."

"Aegon..." Arya was a little surprised, and perhaps more disturbed that Aegon was talking to a tree. She prayed to the old, but the weirwood actually frightened her and made her uneasy to even look at it.

"And I promise never to fight with the Stark brothers." He grinned as he prayed, Arya rolled her eyes, the moment of awe was gone.

"You're an idiot."

"I know." He said, standing up and looking over at her. "I meant every word though."

"Why though?"

"To be a good king. And to- Oh!" He got back down on his knees. "And I promise to leave Syrio Forel in the service of Arya Stark for two years with his wages fully paid."

"...You haven't hit your head lately, have you?" She asked, watching him stand up again.

"If I did, would I even remember it?"

"You're being a child." Arya muttered.

"You like it." He still smirked at her.

"...Come on, let's go spar before it gets too late."

"As it pleases you, my lady." Aegon answered, offering his arm to her but she just stared this time.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Call me_ my lady_."

"Well... you're a high-born noble, born of a lord and lady. I think that technically makes you a lady."

"That's... Aegon..." She sighed and walked ahead of him. He stayed behind and watched her, smiling a bit.

"Arya Stark..." He whispered softly before jogging after her.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: Okay so... this chapter 'Romance in the Godswood' actually will be two separate chapters since it's so incredibly long. But now it's 'In Sight of the Old' since that's more suiting. And this was the perfect spot to end, with a good area to also begin a new chapter, as you'll see. I'll have it out shortly, at most in a day or two. Hopefully this makes it easier on you readers who don't want to strain your eyes reading an endless amount of words. So technically the next chapter will also be Arya's. On a side note, does this mean Aegon loves Arya, or has he yet to reach that point? Maybe the next chapter will shine some light on it...

_**Review Response**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the review! Well Varys even said that Rhaenys knew the shadows well, no surprise that she has some secrets ;) Who sent him, well there's only so many people that we know of who want the Targaryens dead. Tywin Lannister may or may not want them dead. Cersei does want them dead. Stannis may want them dead. Jaime tried to protect Aegon but that could just be his pride. Doran does want Aegon dead but does he want the girls dead as well? So much going on. Tyrion's plan is in motion, we'll find out in a bit about that! And Jon, well actually everyone around the king is probably stressed out. Working for Aegon isn't an easy job.

_**Review Response #2**_: To kaka, thanks for the comments! Yes he's a really fun character, and making Rhaenys meet a match for her was also enjoyable :D

_**Review Response #3**_: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks for the review! We most likely do know who he is! And hopefully this Arya chapter and the one to follow is suitable ;)

_**Review Response #4**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the review! Actually Rhaenys' personality is based off the idea that she is the blood of both Aegon the Conqueror and Nymeria of Dorne. So then I guess we know where all of Aegon's talents went to in the genetics department... Rhae is exceptionally strong character-wise, it's lucky she's on her brother's side and not vying for the throne herself. I think Aegon would lose that one. Soon enough though, much will be revealed! Poor Elia, she'll probably faint hearing that Rhaenys was in the melee...

_**Review Response #5**_: To Guest, I think it's a Targaryen trait for the women to be fierce (though then again so are the men). Rhaenys likely will never bow to any man. And it's the same with Arya in a way. The GoT world is full of strong women who just hate male authority or just men in general.

_**Review Response #6**_: To Master of the RedSands, thanks for the review! Yeah I suspect Jon Snow and the Kingsguard are thinking the same thing. And now Arya also thinks Aegon is avoiding his responsibility. So perhaps that's as well what the Lord Paramounts are thinking... so then perhaps that means that a lot of this trouble could have been avoided if Aegon had just stayed to sit on the Iron Throne? A complex thing I think.

_**Review Response #7**_: To AlphaFartOfDoom, thanks for the review! I'll... I'll just go hide in the witch's hut with a horse to make sure that curse doesn't rub off on me. :D

_**Review Response #8**_: To The Black King, thanks for the comments! Rhaenys as a faceless man, now _that_ would be something I'm sure. Though she's not exactly the subtle type. Tywin may or may not know! He hasn't made any moves against Aegon directly, perhaps he's actually not at fault. Who knows :) And yes, Joffery when it's finally his turn to get chapters will be a HUGE prick, hopefully with something coming after him like a big sword.

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	20. Chapter 19 - Romance in the Godswood

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 19: Romance in the Godswood**

Morning cut through the darkness, though it didn't help that Septa Mordane pulled open the curtains to let the light flood in. Arya groaned as she rolled over, she felt so tired from the day before. She and Aegon must have sparred well beyond sunset, even going as far as missing supper. The more they went on, the angrier she was getting with him. Aegon seemed to let her give him a few good whacks but never tried to hit her serious-like. So then she got even angrier, and the cycle went on until they were both sweating. A small crowd had formed to observe the pair battle it out in the courtyard.

"Rise and shine Arya!" Arya wanted to find the person who came up with the notion that mornings should be bright and cheery, and hang them.

"Must I?" She grumbled.

"Yes. Ladies rise early to greet the day! And today is a very, very special day indeed!"

"It's not my nameday is it..." She groaned, pulling the pillow over her face. Septa Mordane lost her smile and soon was very agitated. Sansa had leaped out of bed at the septa's news.

"No, that's next month. This is even better."

"I don't think many things are better than staying in bed." She grumbled.

"The king is going to be marrying Sansa." The septa was cheery once more, and Arya sat up like an arrow let loose from its string.

"What?" She wasn't sure if she had just dreamed those words.

"It's true! You'll be sister by law to the King of Westeros! And true-blood sister to the future queen."

"What?" Arya asked again, this is what it must have felt like to be drunk. "Aegon asked Sansa to marry him?"

"_The_ _king_, Arya." The septa scolded her. "His Grace asked your lord father last night if he could have Lady Sansa's hand."

"...What?" It still sounded stupid to her. Perhaps it was Foolings Day. Then again, the septa didn't have a funny bone anywhere in her.

"Come on, up, up, up! You have to get ready, there's going to be a great banquet this morning to celebrate once Sansa says yes." Septa Mordane pulled the blankets off Arya who was still very confused and dazed.

"She's going to say yes?" Arya felt dumb for even asking as she scooted out of bed.

"Well of course, that girl holds the king dear to her sweet heart." Arya rolled her eyes over the septa's cheeriness, not sure if the septa was happy for Sansa or just fawning over the king in her own way.

"Doesn't Sansa need to get ready if it's her big day?" She asked sarcastically, but the septa didn't catch on.

"Your lady mother is taking care of that... and everything else, I am to take care of _you_. Gods help me." The septa answered, and Arya did not like that tone. "We will have to bathe you, brush your hair, style it in a southern manner to celebrate the occasion, put you in your finest clothes and-"

"Can Nymeria have a bath too?" Arya asked with a grin.

"Certainly! All the wolves will be washed, they will be at the presentation of the engagement announcement!" The septa said and Arya really could not believe her ears. This day was going to be dreadful, she could feel it. Being practically dragged from her bed after servants brought lukewarm water for her bath, Arya was 'helped' out of her night gown. Stepping into the water, she shivered, it was quickly getting cold.

"Why is..." Arya began but didn't bother, she realized they brought up all the water at the same time, but had gone to Sansa before her. She sunk into the water, with her knees up against her as Septa Mordane combed and washed her hair with oak oil. The old septa would pour a pitcher of the bath water over Arya's head several times, letting the oil rinse from her hair until only a small amount remained. Each time that chilled water splashed over her head and back, Arya felt like slashing out like a real wolf would.

Her hair was brushed and triple braided before being put up in a low-hanging braided bun, held together with silver pins and small white ribbons. The septa rubbed her lips with a small stone, breaking off the dry skin and polishing them until they were shiny, and would not stop even as Arya pulled back several times. Finally they both let out a sigh of relief when all was finished. Looking down at herself, the black gown with white trimming actually suited her. Soft white lace hemmed the sleeves and the bodice, with small pearls decorating the neckline. This was as fine a gown she had ever worn since King's Landing, another time she had been forced to play dress up. And her hair was shiney and soft with the smell of oak while she smelled like field flowers from the watered down perfume.

This time it was for the sake of Sansa apparently, to make a good impression or something else silly that everyone was so concerned about. It frustrated her, but she didn't have the energy to show it now. Septa Mordane had drained her of all her willpower from the cold bath to the dress fitting, to her hair. It was all too much.

There was no time to even break fast, it seemed that the feast being prepared in the meantime was for a late breaking fast at luncheon. All the servants rushed around, mostly to be sure everything was ready for their Lady Sansa. Catelyn was in the great hall with Maester Luwin, organizing the chaos as it flew by her. Arya peeked in to watch for a moment, seeing her mother in such a frenzy that her smooth, brushed hair was coming undone from its braid.

"Arya, why are you here? You should be with Sansa." Catelyn said as she spotted her sulking pup.

"Doesn't Sansa have enough people to take care of..."

"No! The silver platters come after the announcement!" Catelyn said to a servant bringing out their fine silver trays and goblets. "The bronze ones, get the bronze for the display."

"I'll just...go..." Arya tried to take the opportunity to slip away, but her mother would have nothing of it.

"No Arya, go to Sansa's room. She needs a sister more than ever today."

"I can think of something she needs..."

"What was that?" Catelyn said in a firm tone, looking down at Arya finally.

"Nothing mother." Arya didn't waste a breath and hurried back towards the Stark quarters in the keep. Stepping back into the corridor, she suddenly felt reminiscent. The shadow had come out from the floor where she was walking, and she had been ushered away just before Aegon was attacked. Was it all a dream though? She had a hard time telling what was a dream and what was real sometimes, they seemed to repeat themselves. In a way when she saw something in a dream, it somehow was true, or just very strange.

Arya moved out of the way of servants coming from Sansa's room, looking down the hall. What could all the fuss be about really? Her sister didn't need so many servants running around. Though soon enough Arya would be horrified even further by the ordeal.

"Come!" Sansa sounded anxious as Arya pushed open the door, her eyes going wide as she saw a dozen servants crowding the room. Some were folding dresses that Sansa had turned down, two were fixing her hair even though it was already finished, and the rest seemed to be just as anxious as Sansa, looking around uselessly.

"Arya! All of you out, out please!" Sansa waved them away and the servant girls were out of the room and hurrying off to assist Lady Stark who was just as excited as her daughter. Her elder daughter anyways, Arya didn't look very pleased at all, but no one noticed.

"You look... nice." Arya said trying to smile. Her sister wore a bright blue dress with silver buttons all along the gown and bodice with silver fur lining on the sleeves and the dress hem. Her neckline had several lines of small pearls, with a silver wolf amulet resting just below them on Sansa's chest, embroidered into the fabric.

"Oh you're so sweet." Sansa said and reached for her sister's hand, Arya suddenly felt very awkward holding hands with Sansa. "I just wanted to let you know..."

"...About?" Arya asked after a short silence, Sansa wasn't even looking her in the eye.

"That when I'm queen... I mean... Arya you're my sister, I know we haven't always gotten along as splendidly as we should. Just, I hope we could put differences aside. When I'm queen I want to help my family, I want to help you. I'll find you a prince to marry if I can and make sure you're just as happy as I will be." Her words seemed very sincere, sickeningly so to Arya as she watched Sansa hold back tears.

"Thank you..." Arya tried not to make a face but she couldn't help herself as she nodded, the awkward tension was getting much worse now.

"Oh Arya. I'm so happy." Sansa reached over and half-hugged her sister, and Arya sort of just patted her back as they embraced casually. "I want you to be the maiden of honor at the ceremony! It'll be just us Starks in the Great Sept of Baelor, the bells ringing and Aegon dressed so finely. It'll be so wonderful, just so wonderful!"

Arya could only nod, and praised the old gods and the seven new as a knock came at the door. The girls looked at it as Sansa stood up and in came their mother. Perhaps Arya wasn't saved yet after all.

"Oh my darlings. You should see the king." Catelyn looked like she wanted to cry too. "And look at you two. I'm so happy. A mother's greatest joy is to see her children start a family. I just..."

"Mother? What is it?" Sansa asked as the Lady Stark did begin to cry.

"I just can't stand the thought of you having to leave Winterfell. You're so young and I know that... I just..."

"Mother... you had to leave Riverrun to come here. I'll be queen, I can visit whenever I want." Sansa went and hugged her mother as Arya watched them.

"Oh yes... I know, I know my darling." Catelyn smiled a bit and looked at Arya. "Could you go check on your father, Arya? He's taking far too long to get ready."

"Yes mother.." Arya muttered as she went by the mother-daughter pair and left the room, hurrying up the corridor to get away from them. Being forced to dress up like a doll and run all around Winterfell to make sure everyone was all so pleased for Sansa. It was just all too much.

"Enter." Ned Stark looked back, having been lost in thought and staring out the window. He smiled as he saw Arya come in, she smiled back, perhaps she wasn't alone.

"Mother said you were taking too long to get ready." Arya went over to her father and hugged him as he laughed.

"Did she? Well she's just... excited."

"You're not?" Arya asked, looking up at him.

"Just... I'm not sure your mother and sister really understand what's going on."

"Didn't the king ask to marry Sansa? Septa Mordane told me he did."

"Well... he asked for my _daughter_'s hand. He never said Sansa." Ned stroked her hair and laughed again. Arya gave him a confused look and then nodding, understanding what he had meant. "You should go to the Godswood, away from all of this. Sansa will be very upset when she finds out."

"Why don't you just tell her and mother?"

"I tried. Oh old gods and new help me, I so tried." He shook his head. "You know your mother, more stubborn than I."

"Mmm..." Arya nodded, she did know her mother and the Tully stubbornness that seemed to worsen from years spent in the North. "What about Aegon?"

"Leave him to me." He knelt down and looked into his daughter's eyes before he hugged her tightly. "Arya, listen to me. You're young but you have your whole life ahead of you. This is a good chance for you, for all of us, but..."

"I'll do what feels right." She finished for him which made him laugh as she grinned.

"You are a wild one." He said, holding her face lightly in his hands. Arya could only grin more, she liked being wild and free.

* * *

The great hall was not as crowded as Catelyn Stark had expected. All the lords in the area had ridden as soon as they got the ravens to see this historical even, when a Targaryen would ask for the hand of a Stark. Their maesters and advisers were there too, under the watch of Luwin who was not fond of this gathering either. Sansa stood beside her mother, trying not to be nervous as they waited for Aegon. Lord Stark came in from the courtyard after seeing Arya off to the Godswood, standing at the door and looking at his wife and daughter standing there.

There was a tension in the room as they waited. Ned looked at his wife who seemed as oblivious as their daughter, he did not look as happy as the rest of them. Though it seemed his sons were just as confused as he had been when he woke to the chaos. The Wolf did not want to see his daughter's heart broken, but perhaps this would teach her a valuable life lesson, he hoped.

"His Grace!" A servant announced as one of the side doors opened and Aegon came in with all his Kingsguard, Ser Jaime still in a splint and harness.

"Your Grace." Everyone said in partial-unison, some more loudly than others as they bowed to him. Aegon stood in the middle of the great hall, Sansa smiling brilliantly at him with Catelyn squeezing her hand. Though slowly, Sansa's smile melted away. She stood there, dressed more finely than any southern lady and so well poised, yet Aegon did not see her. The king's eyes were going back and forth across the hall, looking even at the wolves who sat in a line behind Sansa where Jon Snow stood to mind them. Aegon looked at Bran and Rickon, Robb and Jon, to Catelyn Stark and finally to Sansa.

"Where is Lady Arya?" He asked, and before anyone could take a breath, Lord Stark answered.

"The Godswood, your Grace." Aegon turned away to look at Ned, just in time as tears rolled down Sansa's face. "She's in the Godswood awaiting you, my king."

"Thank you, Lord Stark." The king said after a brief pause, glancing at Ser Connington and nodded. "My knights, remain here. I'll go alone."

"Yes your Grace." The Kingsguard answered quietly but diligently as the king left the great hall on his own. Sansa's ears were burning, her eyes were blurred from the tears. All she could see in her mind was Aegon. There he stood in black and red velvet, a fine doublet with black pearls and blood-red rubies, with so many golden buttons going down the middle and dragon-head pins holding in place his great red cloak with the black Targaryen dragon on the back of it. She saw his ruby crown on his forehead, his leather gloves and his brown boots with black fur lining them. He was the image of valiance and authority, like all the strong kings in stories that stood proudly before their subjects. Sansa had taken in every detail of her king, yet he saw not a thing of her.

"Why..." She sniffled as she held onto her mother, she could still hear the king's question echo over and over. "He... I... I was going to give him beautiful silver haired children. They were going to be Rhaegar, Visenya, Aerion, Aemon... We were going to get married in the Great Sept... I... what happened? Why?"

Sansa began to cry into Catelyn's chest as her mother held her, looking over at Ned with a face of shock and confusion. Her husband only could offer a frown and shook his head, he had told her, she realized now what he had meant that the king never mentioned Sansa's name. It wasn't Sansa, it was Arya he would marry.

* * *

The morning light was just as beautiful as the late afternoon had been, but it was a mellow gold color. Much softer and cooler. Arya stood in front of the weirwood, watching it as it watched her, its eyes had followed her as she approached. Her lordly father often prayed to this tree, almost every day he would sit and contemplate or offer some thanks to the old gods. Today for some reason, Arya didn't feel afraid of the tree or its sap-bloody face.

"Arya." She turned her head slowly, and she saw who she had expected to see though she did not hear him as his footsteps were made silent by the moss ground. Now it was her turn to feel nervous. Arya held her hands against her lap so they wouldn't tremble.

"Aegon." She replied to him, trying to smile.

"You look wonderful." He was smiling a lot, quite a lot. Within a second though he let out a half-shout, ending up flat on his back as Nymeria pounced on top him. Arya didn't so much flinch as she watched the king kick his legs and beg for mercy.

"N-N-Nymeria! Sto-stop! That-that-! Stop! Arya! Arya please!" She shook her head as she watched the huge direwolf lick the king's face cleaner than it had ever been. Arya put her index finger and thumb to her lips and whistled, and Nymeria reluctantly stepped off the king's chest, sitting down beside him, wagging her tail.

"Gods be good. She think she's a pup still..." He said as he wiped his face on his cloak before standing up and brushing himself off. Nymeria let out a whine as she yawned, still wagging her tail. The soft moss had made it a gentle fall, but had dirtied him slightly. Aegon ran his hand over Nymeria's head before he looked over at Arya.

"You have my gratitude." Aegon smiled still.

"I'm glad." Arya tried not to be sarcastic, and she managed somehow not to.

"As am I." He said as he made his way over to her with Nymeria following him. He would look at the tree for a moment before turning his attention to her once again. "I had hoped we could do this in private. It seems as though... there was a misunderstanding."

"With Sansa."

"With Sansa." The king nodded as he stared at her. Looking into his eyes, she saw her reflection amongst those amethysts. "And I really wished to speak with you about..."

"What is it you want Aegon?" Arya didn't like how long he was taking, it was making her even more nervous.

"Arya. Come back with me... to King's Landing. All of this, all the good in my life happening is because you opened my eyes when we first met... well after we first met."

"You told me I broke your hand." She reminded him. Arya could still hear his angry yelling, asking for her head on a spike before Ser Connington struck the king.

"You broke something in me, something that needed breaking. The barriers I put up around me to shield myself from everyone. I knew only the Red Keep and King's Landing before I was crowned. Now I've seen all the way to the Wall and I had the chance to grow close to you."

"We mainly only sparred." She reminded him again.

"Yes, I know... but yesterday... it was so... I was so happy to spend time with you like that, just being with you. You made me realize that I need to become a better king, a better man. And I want you to be there with me." He admitted, she could feel herself lightly chewing on the inside of her mouth as she listened to him. "I want to know you more, I want you to come back with me. We could spar everyday if it pleased you, and I'm sure that-"

"Why don't you just stay here longer?" Arya flanked him, her nerves were shattered while he was still taking too long to ask.

"That is... I don't mean that, Arya. I want you to come to King's Landing, and be my queen." He stepped forward and took her hands into his, the red cloak fluttering lightly in the breeze. "Arya Stark of Winterfell, be my queen. When you're of age I want you to be the lady by my side, to be my wife."

"Your queen? Your lady?" Arya asked flatly and Aegon nodded, still smiling. Though soon he realized just how displeased she was with him.

"Arya... I-"

"You troll!" With a great shove, she knocked him back into the pool of black water. The large splash got the bottom of her dress wet and Nymeria jumped back to avoid the wave of water. Aegon sat there, wet from head to toe as he looked up with her, coughing up some of the pool.

"Arya, what are you-"

"Is that all I am to you? A lady? Just a lady that you can ask to take away? I don't want to be that sort of lady. I dream of bigger, better things. I don't want to sit in a castle all day and sew pretty dresses or throw little parties for your lords. That's Sansa. That's Sansa, Aegon!" She hissed angrily at him, holding back her tears as much as possible. "You want to know more about me? You don't know anything about me, you just pretend to know! I won't let you change me... I won't let anyone change me! You're not going to make me turn into Sansa!"

"Arya, that's not at all what I- Arya!" He called after her as she stormed off, he tried to get up and go after her but his wet clothes weighed him down. Nymeria tilted her head at him, letting out a whine before running after her mistress. He crawled out of the pool and sat on the mossy ground, shivering a bit as he watched her leave him there. Aegon sighed and looked down, but glanced up as he heard someone there. Before him stood the half-giant with his pants and shirt slung over his shoulder, dripping wet from the hot springs.

"Hodor?"

"I hope you didn't see that..."

"Hodor!" The large man nodded.

* * *

Arya ran from the Godswood but knew she couldn't go to the great hall or the keep. They would all be waiting there, most to congratulate her but then there was Sansa who would likely want her dead. So she ran to the armory before anyone would spot her, pushing into it and slamming the door behind her after Nymeria slipped in with her. She fell to the ground and hugged the big direwolf as she started cry loudly into her friend's fur.

"That troll... Why doesn't he ever think..." She sobbed, Nymeria only responded with a whine. "I thought I knew what I was going to say to him, I guess I didn't know what he would say to me... Oh Nymeria..."

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: So there you have it... Aegon half-asses ruling the Seven Kingdoms and also half-asses marriage proposals. Does he really know Arya? Is she too afraid to admit he know her? Or is he really just thinking too much about himself, pretending to know Arya? Who could say... That was probably not the ending you might have been expecting, but what can I say ;) At least Nymeria got a bit of limelight, with more to come hopefully! Next chapter is likely going to be about the Gallant Dragon in White Harbor. Is Aegon walking into a trap like Rhaenys and Daenerys? Has Renly, Loras and Brienne made it to the Vale yet? Hmm I wonder if they should get a chapter...

_**Review Response**_: To HermioneandMarcus, thanks for the comments! I'm glad you're still enjoying it!

_**Review Response #2**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks for the review! Oh I can't write romance to save my life, at least not the type of 'romance' that Aegon and Arya have. I actually think this chapter was worse than the last for their romantic-ness. Like many of my chapters, it's a setup for what's to come. Definitely doesn't mean they will have a romantic relationship, but it will be important for their relationship regardless. As for other POV, I might try my hand at Jon Snow soon. I'm glad you think Aegon may be mad, it's really fun to toy with the idea. Aerys was mad in his later life, but Baelon was mad all along, while Daenerys has no trace of madness (arguably). So perhaps Aegon's madness will worsen over time or stabilize to be part of his personality. Aegon the Unready, more suiting now since he's no longer a short-thing.

_**Review Response #3**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the review! Yeah Cat is an interesting character with a lot of depth to her, mainly concerning her family. Ser Jorah I believe met his wife at a tourney to celebrate Robert's victory over the Greyjoys, it seems just as plausible that Ser Jorah could still have met his expensive wife all the same at a tourney, just the event was probably different. Yeah Arya has all the sense that Aegon doesn't even though she's far less experienced than he is, I think it comes down to a matter of perception. Renaming a Valyrian sword I think would be bad luck, especially just renaming it without purpose as Aegon did just so it would suit him better.

_**Review Response #4**_: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks for the review! Well just think of this as further character development. Though this development does not guarantee that they will or will not be together, it'll become important for self-realization later on ;) I'm sorry to disappoint, but maybe that makes it all the more exciting to find out how things will turn out.

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	21. Chapter 20 - Windy White Harbor

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 20: Windy White Harbor**

Dragonclaw hung from his sword-belt, the blade making a very soft ping noise with each step, the song of fine Valyrian steel against the sturdy sheath. The ancient sword was worthy for any king to wield, for any great warlord to swing. It was a paramount symbol of ancient honor and authority, to be used as a beacon of strength for commanders. Yet Aegon was not the one carrying the blade, Jon Snow was.

Ever since leaving Castle Black, the squire had been the sole guardian of the Longclaw which Aegon had almost immediately renamed on their way back to Winterfell. All the Kingsguard had very fine weapons, and Snow did as well, so it was strange that Aegon did not fancy to keep the sword at his side. His personal sword stayed with him instead, with its dual gold and silver dragon headed guard that twisted into a rigged spiral-tail hilt with a large ruby pummel. It was certainly a good, strong sword, but it was no Valyrian blade.

Jon could only wonder at the king's choice, perhaps Aegon wished to have his mimic of Blackfyre at his side instead of a lesser house's sword. Snow had attempted to return the sword to the king on a few occasions, but Aegon never so much touched the sword let alone desired to wear it. Though the squire would make no complaint, he had permission to carry and wield the sword by the king's own word. A small part of him wished for a real battle, so that 'Dragonclaw' could get a proper test.

"His Grace the King!" A guard announced as a horn blew from atop the castle tower. Aegon rode at the head of his entourage along the wide white stone road that led through the city from Wolf's Den to the crowning castle. Dragon banners flew at the front whilst Wolf banners were just behind though only a few in number. Robb Stark accompanied the king in place of his lord father who felt he needed to remain in Winterfell to attend to delicate family matters. Aegon made no fuss and gladly accepted Robb's company.

"My king! My king! Welcome to New Castle! Welcome! And young Lord Stark as well!" Lord Wyman Manderly had such a strong obnoxious voice that the horses were almost startled. Robb was beside Aegon as they entered the courtyard followed by the Kingsguard with Jon Snow amongst them.

"Lord Manderly. Good to see you again." Robb said after he had dismounted with Aegon and the rest.

"And you as well, my lord! And King Aegon, you are truly a sight to behold. I am so deeply honored. My castle, my city, my house, all at your service your Grace." Wyman Manderly bowed to the king as he approached... or at least it looked like bowing from what Jon could tell as the huge man could barely so much move his neck.

"You're a gracious host, Lord Manderly." Aegon replied which made the fat lord laugh, this time the horses were startled.

"Most kind! Most kind of you to say, your Grace!" He tried to bow again then opened his arms as he stood straight-ish. "Come, I have a feast prepared! The Gallant Dragon will arrive on the morrow and I wish to treat you to the splendors of White Harbor before you depart! The North will never forget such an honor of a royal visit!"

"Surely my presence is not of too great importance, my lord." Aegon said as he walked alongside the waddling Wyman.

"Oh no, no, no your Grace. All the North toasts to your good health!"

"Many of Lord Stark's banners seem discontent with my being in the North. I'm certainly not a popular figure here, being a Targaryen and all." Before Aegon could finish, Lord Manderly had fallen to his knees and clutched Aegon's red cloak.

"Oh your Grace! Please! I swear I am your most loyal servant! To the old and new, I am... I am joyous to host you in my home! Oh please believe me your Grace!" Wyman tugged at the king's cape, the Kingsguard stood there and did nothing, the man was pathetic enough as is without them having to pull him off Aegon.

"Father!" One of the knights from the Manderly party stepped forward, bowing to Aegon. "Forgive my father, your Grace. We've simply..."

"Oh your Grace! Please, we meant no disrespect!" Wyman hushed his son, looking up pleadingly.

"You're embarrassing us father." Another knight said, much louder than the first. He came up and grabbed Lord Wyman's arm, nodding to his brother to get the other. The two sons pulled Lord Manderly to his feet with quite a bit of effort. Wyman jiggled as he wobbled onto his aching feet.

"Ser Wendel Manderly, your Grace!" The second knight said proudly, then nodded to the slightly shyer knight. "This is my elder brother, Ser Wylis Manderly."

"My king." Wylis bowed a second time as he spoke softly, just as round as his father but able to at least bow better. Aegon nodded to them then glanced at Lord Manderly who couldn't even bear to lift his head to meet the king's eye.

"We had heard of your... incident at the Wall, your Grace." Wendel huffed. "Stories say you created an inferno out of thin air."

"Something like that, I suppose." Aegon made a dissatisfied face. "I hadn't realized that I caused a spread of fear among my lords."

"Fear? Ha!" Wendel laughed then collected himself as he saw Aegon's surprised face. "Uh... excuse me your Grace. It's only well, I don't fear a young king like yourself... Only deeply respect."

"Wendel!" Lord Manderly hissed quietly. Aegon looked between them before glancing at the bold knight, noting he was not as round as his elder brother or his pompous father.

"Ser Wendel Manderly, you're an honest man. I can appreciate that." Aegon said though he wasn't sure to what extent he meant it. "Lord Manderly, raise your head. You're a Northern Lord, act like one."

"Of course! Of course, your Grace!" The fat man did his best to calm down and waddled to lead the way. "I'll show you to your quarters at once! I'm sure you'd like to change for the feast!"

"You're being rather harsh, your Grace." Robb whispered as he stepped beside Aegon while Lord Manderly hurried to lead them.

"Maybe I just like watching the man jiggle in fear." Aegon said quietly and Robb shook his head.

"Your Grace, the people fear a rumor. Showing them it to be true won't win you love."

"I thought the Starks ruled with a cold demeanor." Aegon glanced at Robb who grinned.

"You've spent a bit too much time among us I think, your Grace. Though I'm sure that's not how my father rules the North."

"Hm. Still, do you suppose I could get a wolf too?" The king asked and Robb stiffened a laugh.

* * *

Jon practically threw his things onto the bed, the journey to White Harbor had almost seemed like a forced march to him. The king could not have left Winterfell fast enough even if the gods willed him to. He sighed as he pulled Dragonclaw from his belt and laid it on the bed as he sat down, looking at the sheathed Valyrian blade.

"_She was so upset_." He could still hear Sansa's cries, but it was Arya's tears that had been sadder. Jon was the one who found her in the armory with her direwolf, curled up and sobbing. Snow stayed with her until supper and smuggled her to the Stark quarters before bringing her something to eat. Arya didn't want to see anyone, though of course her parents could not be kept away. The squire shuddered at the memory of seeing Lady Catelyn coming down the hall like a wolf on the rampage, ready to destroy anything that would keep her from her pup.

"Resting already?" Jon jumped up as Ser Jon came in. It wasn't as if Snow was not used to sharing a room with his mentor, except at the Red Keep where he was housed with other squires while the Kingsguard had their own chambers not too far from the royal apartments.

"No sir." Snow watched the knight remove his sword belt and lay it neatly on the other bed with his gloves. The silence seemed to weigh heavy as the knight watched his squire, and it's not as if Jon's feelings were very secret.

"Are you angry with him still?" Connington asked while he began to unfasten his armor, Jon moved around the bed to assist him.

"If I am?"

"I was only curious Snow."

"I am. A little." Jon answered after a short silence, the other Jon nodding, sighing in relief as the breastplate came off.

"As is your right."

"His Grace is just... so unpredictable these days." Jon muttered and Connington raised a brow as he glanced over his shoulder at his squire.

"These days? Gods be merciful, His Grace has been unpredictable since the day he was born."

"I think all children are unpredictable..."

"Especially Targaryen children. Poor Ser Barristan's back." Connington laughed a bit. "Born under a red comet as bright as blood and fire, raised to sit on a throne sharp and hard, growing into a man with uncertainties all around him. Hm. Aegon is much his father with his silver hair and his ambition to learn."

"I think the king likes to be reminded of his father." Jon said as he finished helping his mentor out of the heavy Kingsguard armor. Of course for a Kingsguard, the armor was a part of them and hardly a burden in general.

"I think all children like to be reminded of their fathers. Especially if they have passed on to the gods." Connington shook his head, he too liked to be reminded of his Silver Prince.

"I don't enjoy to be reminded of my father. People don't much like bastards."

"Oh is that how it is?" Jon Connington turned to his squire now as he took off his shirt and tossed it to the other Jon. "You think just because you're a bastard that you have it so hard."

"I didn't mean that. It's just that..."

"Just what? Listen boy. A bastard you might be, but your birthright does not define who you are. And you have no birthright, but a great amount of potential. And a good deal of freedom to become your own man. Now I've put up with this attitude long enough these past months. In the Kingsguard, we're like brothers. And when you join our ranks, no one will care if you're a bastard. Certainly not the king. The king has a love for you as do I."

"Ser Connington..." Snow suddenly felt abashed, terribly so. It wasn't like he tried to feel unwanted, nor did he want pity, he just knew what he was. A bastard. The knight sighed and put his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, it's just been a tiresome journey. The North is no place for a southron knight like me, I'm pampered by kinder weather among other things. Thank the gods for the hospitality of your father."

"My father thinks very highly of you Ser."

"Does he? Why?"

"He told me how you spared the village where the Strong Stag was. You could have ended Robert's Rebellion there and then, instead you decided not to involve the common people."

"And the Mad King exiled me." Connington tried to laugh at the irony but instead he only grimaced, those were dark times for the knight. "And while I was gone, Rhaegar suffered a mortal wound. Maybe your father's admiration is unfounded, I regret not attacking that village. King Rhaegar, rest his soul, would still yet live if I had. I would have slain a thousand peasants if I knew it would keep him safe."

"You didn't fail the Bard King." Jon tried to assure him, now the knight did laugh, a little.

"I will serve the son, where I failed the father. That is my penance. A glad one." Ser Jon smiled and patted the other Jon's shoulder. "We better finish changing, more duty awaits us. Gods be good I live until I'm a crippled and old in the king's service."

* * *

Merman's Court was a spectacle, a piece of giant artwork with its planked walls with carved and painted depictions of sea creatures both real and fictitious. The floor a masterly painted collage of crabs, starfish and clams amongst a twisted dark forest of seaweed that housed the bones of drowned sailors. The high table placed itself before the raised throne and dais where Aegon sat at the right hand of Lord Manderly while his two sons were at his left.

Jon Snow stood where Ser Jaime would have been standing on guard had his sword arm been well, the squire playing the part of an acting-Kingsguard for the time being. Snow was behind Aegon to the king's right, hand resting on Dragonclaw's hilt at full ready for anything that might come. The squire clenched his teeth to stiffen a yawn, watching the king feast was usually interesting as Aegon conversed with his lords. Now there was only silence coming from Aegon. From what the squire could tell, the king was horrified at the manners that Lord Wyman possessed with small pieces of roasted hen and fried eel were flinging about between small splashes of wine when the lord put down his goblet. Surely he would breath sometime, for Aegon's sake who seemed to have little appetite now.

Of course, Lord Wyman was having the time of his life. Laughing loudly, slapping his belly to make it jiggle as he spoke of ships and fishmongers, tales of the Narrow Sea and critters that dwelling in its depths. For him, hosting the king was either the greatest joy or just another reason to eat. Jon Snow shook his head slightly as he kept watching. For all the anger that remained in him from Arya's tears, he certainly did not wish this sort of fate on the king. Or anyone else.

"A shame you could not stay a few days, your Grace. It would be amazing to show you the Wolf's Den. It may house the lowest of the low now, but it is a shining shard of pride for White Harbor." Lord Wyman said between bites.

"Home calls for me." Aegon replied as he tried his best not to glance to the side.

"I imagine it does..." Lord Wyman tore into yet another roasted hen with his teeth. "...your Grace. You'll sleep soundly I promise. Our beds are the most comfotable in all the North! You'll feel as if you're back in Maegor's Holdfast! Happy as a pig in- oh... pardon your Grace."

Aegon actually had little fondness for the royal apartments at the Red Keep. A year after the death of his father, the small council moved him into the king's chambers. The massive quarters with the large windows overlooking the bay, the stone-carved twin hearths, and the broad bed that was one day expected to be the place where he'd produce an heir. Oh how he cried and wailed, kicked and screamed, he might have even headbutted one of the Kingsguard in the nose. Though he didn't regret his behavior. What child wanted to live in the place where his dead father had once been? In the place he had died to top it off.

The king did smile a little at the memory, glancing away from the Lord Manderly. He remembered how guilty he felt, thinking his mother had no place to sleep since he had taken her bedroom. Even though Queen Elia and Rhaegar hadn't shared quarters for years. His childhood might not have been perfect, but he was quickly learning from this journey that he had a fantastic one compared to most.

Unfortunately for the king, he was brought out of his day dreams when the Lord Wyman somehow caught Aegon smiling to himself.

"Thinking of a girl are you, your Grace? I know that look!" The Lord Manderly, the wide smirk very audible in his tone as he laughed and slapped his belly for about the dozenth time. Aegon cautiously glanced at the fat lord, unsure what to really say. He instead stood up, much to Wyman's panic as he stumbled and flopped around like a fish out of water trying to stand as well. His sons had to hurry to lift him as Aegon left the table.

"I'll take a stroll if you don't mind, my lord." Aegon grumbled and didn't wait for a reply as he headed for the side door of the Merman's Court. He didn't know New Castle, but certainly it wouldn't be difficult to find his way. After all, Winterfell was a massive maze compared to it.

"My knights, remain here with our good host. Snow, come with me."

Jon watched Aegon go for the door while the Kingsguard prepared to follow, but on the king's order, Snow looked to at his mentor who nodded. He hurried to follow after Aegon who was briskly walking away from the great hall. Nothing was said between them as they went through the corridors. Even when Aegon stopped to find which way to go, they were in silence. And Jon didn't bother to ask where they were going either, he wasn't ready to make small talk with Aegon just yet. Though it didn't take very long for Jon to know where the king was heading.

The top of New Castle's keep gave a view from the Wolf's Den to the bay and beyond. The air was cool and occasionally fierce, but mostly calming though never still. Aegon stepped out onto the crowning battlement of the keep-top where the guards were of course surprised, most muttering some words of respect as they bowed. The king only dismissed them to leave, and though they gave each other glances, they did not disobey. Aegon looked over his shoulder as the half dozen guards hastily left them alone on the roof.

"They're all so afraid."

"You seem surprised." Snow hadn't meant to be snippy.

"Am I really that terrible?"

"I've told you before, you have a temper. And now you apparently breath fire."

"Hm." Aegon sighed softly as he walked to the stone ramparts, leaning against one of them, looking out onto the bay while Jon Snow stood back and watched the king.

"Are you upset over what happened at Winterfell?" Jon couldn't stand the silence anymore. It had been a long one, the only sound was the howling wind that made Aegon's hair blow around almost wildly.

"Of course I'm upset." Aegon took a moment to answer, but he kept his eyes on the bay.

"You know what you did was stupid, right?"

"I know."

"You didn't have the decency to even ask how she felt! What she wanted! Gods..." Jon hadn't started out shouting, but his voice raised as his anger seemed to rush back like a wound being reopened. And the memory of his crying little sister fueled it.

"I know." Aegon didn't take time to answer this time, and Jon looked at him strangely, unsure if he was being brushed off or not.

"You are listening I hope."

"I am." The king pushed himself off the rampart and turned to face Jon. "I have a job for you Snow."

"Oh? What can I do to serve His Grace?" Jon was still ticked and his tone was very mocking, though Aegon ignored it.

"Go back to Winterfell."

"What?" Now he was between being miffed and utterly confused.

"I need you to go back to Winterfell." Aegon repeated.

"Why? Why go back now? You think that you can just send me there with words of-"

"I had a dream." The look on Aegon's face made Jon worry, the king was looking like he had at Castle Black, only not tired and drained of life as he had been at the Wall.

"Another darkness?"

"No. Something else."

"You know..." Jon stepped forward and kicked his heel against the stone as he lowered his gaze. "...when you dream, it's terrifying to hear about it. Especially at Castle Black... you weren't..."

"I know." Aegon didn't want to hear him finish. Of course he hadn't been himself, or at least not a self he knew of. All he knew was that either something was influencing him, or there was a much darker side to the Dragon than he cared to imagine.

"What did you see?" Jon asked after they had another long pause.

"Winterfell. Riverrun. Dragonstone. Highgarden. King's Landing. All of it. Burning."

"In fire?" Jon knew that Aegon's dreams were strange and twisted.

"No. Well... Dragonstone was burning in a great inferno. The rest... it was covered in a bright mist that acted like fire, illuminated the landscape and people were screaming... but it didn't consume."

"What do you think it means?" Jon dared to ask.

"Danger. War maybe. I need to go to Dragonstone, the fire there... it's something very tempting. Drawing me in, calling to me if you will."

"And you want me to go back to Winterfell...?"

"If the North will be endangered. I think you should be there to protect it."

"I thought I was supposed to be protecting you." Jon said, making Aegon grin a bit.

"Maybe." Was all he could respond with, he had no other explanation.

"I can't go then."

"I'm your king, you're supposed to do what I say."

"Maybe." Jon retorted.

"So then what?" Aegon leaned back against the rampart as he watched Jon who in turn looked at him.

"Stay with you, what else? Has the North frozen your southron brain?" Jon made a face and Aegon laughed.

"It very well may have. Fine, you can stay. I'll send word to your father though, something is worrying me... Something at Winterfell is tearing away at me."

"Besides breaking my sister's heart?"

"Now that's unfair." Aegon snapped. He went over to Jon as his voice raised.

"Well what do you expect?"

"What about me? I didn't _try_ to upset her. She never said anything beforehand!"

"That's no excuse." Jon was getting angry again, Aegon was already mad.

"Well your sister shouldn't act like such a child then and just say what's on her mind!"

"Says the child-king!"

"You... Ugh! Bastard!" Aegon yelled, soon the two were throwing punches at each other. Jon had the upper hand, having had Robb and Theon to romp around and fight with over the years. Aegon barely managed to punch Snow in the jaw while he got three or four hits in the chest and stomach. Soon enough Aegon gave up punching and tackled Jon, the pair barely missing the stairway as they fell to the ground and rolled across the roof back and forth.

They hit the side of the ramparts, striking each other in the face whenever the chance came up as they fought for who would stay on top and hold the other down. Both were angry and careless, constantly losing control as they kept rolling each and every way until finally Jon threw Aegon off. Though he left himself open. With as hard a swing as he could manage at such an awkward angle, Aegon hit Jon hard in the abdomen just as Jon's elbow rammed into his face.

The two panted hard and loud as he stayed there on the cold ground, Aegon sat leaning against the rampart holding his face as Jon laid on his back, holding his stomach. Glancing at each other, both grinned after a moment and soon laughed, though it hurt to do so. They were so winded now, the fight felt like it had just been a dream, though their bruises would testify otherwise.

"You are a bastard..." Aegon said as he wiped the blood from his lip.

"What of it? You've never minded before."

"And I don't mind it now."

"Good... I would have punched you again." Jon said as Aegon stood up and offered his hand, pulling Snow to his feet.

"I would have put up a fight. Though then again, it's high treason to attack the king."

"I think you hit me first." Jon replied and Aegon laughed a bit, though held his jaw while he did.

"Maybe we should have dueled it out instead. Probably less... painful."

"Well, I have your sword right here." Jon said, reaching down to grip the hilt of Dragonclaw.

"That's _your_ sword."

"Mine? But the Lord Commander-"

"Gave it to me, and I give it to you. It doesn't feel right in my hand. Besides..."

"...What?"

"I saw the blade of Dragonclaw shining in Westeros while a red dragon flew over the Free Cities, guided by the light reflected off the sword."

"You saw... Oh gods, not more dreaming." Jon made a face and shook his head as Aegon grinned slightly.

"It's yours, Jon Snow."

"You do realize I've nothing to do with the sigil. A bear probably suited more than a dragon." Jon looked at the pommel of the sword.

"Maybe you were a dragon in another life."

* * *

Just before the dawn, the Gallant Dragon arrived in the bay before White Harbor. The great ship could not hope to dock even here, too large even for such a port. The Targaryen flag flew above the crow's nest, yellow sails with the Dornish sunburst with a dragon in the middle were lowered for the time being as the ship awaited its passengers. Twelve of the fourteen rowboats were sent to the port in the late morning when news came of Aegon's departure from New Castle.

Robb Stark ventured northward after he bid his farewells to the king who left south towards the port. Aegon, accompanied by Ser Wylis and Ser Wendel, rode with his entourage to the port where the boats were waiting for them.

"It was an honor to host you, your Grace." Ser Wendel spoke, his elder brother who nodded.

"Indeed. White Harbor welcomes you any time you return to the North."

"Thank you Sers. I am sure I'll return someday." Aegon dismounted his horse and handed it over to one of Manderly's men. All the horses would be returned the long way to Riverrun and then King's Landing.

"Gods-speed my king." Ser Wylis said as the king's entourage boarded the boats after all the supplies and luggage were packed on. The Dornish sailors did most of the manual work without much effort before they readied themselves to row.

The water that morning was calm thankfully as the dozen rowboats made their way back towards the Gallant Dragon where the captain was already waiting on deck for the king to arrive. And the sailors made sure that Aegon's boat was first to reach the mighty vessel, one of the ladders already lowered for him.

"This way... your Grace." One of the sailors said as he stood up and held the rope and helped Aegon onto the ladder. Ser Connington was right behind him but the sailor stopped him. "One at a time... _Ser_."

Connington grumbled as he watched Aegon move to the top, being pulled up by two sailors on deck. It didn't take more than a few seconds for the king to notice that the sailors were all armed and had their hands resting on their swords.

"Welcome to the Gallant Dragon, your Grace." One of the Dornish men said as he approached and bowed. He had a scar over his eye with a smirk of pure mockery as he made a feigned effort to be presentable though he was dirty.

"Are you the captain?" Aegon asked, a bad feeling brewing in his stomach.

"No. No. I'm not." He seemed to growl. "First officer Dongar Seawood, my king."

"Then who is the- Uncle!" Aegon looked past Dongar Seawood as he noticed finally the Red Viper.

"My king." Oberyn bowed, he was as dirty as the rest of them. Not to mentioned dressed almost like a beggar.

"Uncle... what are you doing here?"

"Captaining your ship, dear nephew." Oberyn grinned, looking half-mad or perhaps all too excited to be on the seas again. His black hair was greasy and unkempt, not usually how Aegon saw him. Or rather this was the first time he saw his uncle appear so... common.

"But why are you-"

"Aegon!" The king turned his head to see Daenerys running towards him as Ser Connington reached the deck, being pulled up by the sailors. The two hugged as he stood in disbelief with Rhaenys walking after her aunt.

"Dany... Rhae... By the gods, what's going on?"

"Aegon, we have to talk." Rhaenys said, pleased to see her brother, but the tone of her voice meant that reunion celebrations would just have to wait.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: This was a difficult chapter to write for some reason, I really was challenged in doing even the simple scene. Maybe I burned out on the last few chapters. For those curious what's going to happen with... well everything. A lot, as a short answer. Aegon and Arya, marriage or not, there is a lot planned for them. Especially since I just recently had a brilliant idea about Aegon's dreaming... Oooh this is going to be exciting. I actually keep getting more and more ideas for this fanfic, plus a sequel involving... well... no use spoiling it. All I can say is that if you're ready for the adventure to begin... you might have to wait another chapter. I _may_ do a Renly/Brienne/Loras chapter, if not it'll be Dragonstone where it'll all begin. Will Aegon finally learn about the eggs? Or has Viserys already gotten to them and worse, stolen them?

_**Review Response**_: To lalyta8, thanks for the review! Glad you liked it, I can't make promises since that would be spoiling the story, but I hope you'll keep reading to find out ;)

_**Review Response #2**_: To Will, thanks for the review! Thank you very much! I'm pleased to know that you're pleased with how it's turning out :) I really didn't want Arya and Aegon to get married, at least not at this point. They're both so young and immature still, it'll be a lot of fun to develop them both. Arya will go a different (but more fun) route than in the canon since Ned Stark isn't headless, and Aegon will undergo a transformation hopefully as the chapters keep coming. I hope you keep reading!

_**Review Response #3**_: To Ladyjaxs999, thanks for your comments! Glad you like it, I hope you continue reading!

_**Review Response #4**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the comments! Aegon frankly doesn't know much about much, I blame an overprotective mother and an absent father-figure. Oh well. Jaime is in a splint and harness after being quite literally thrown across Castle Black's courtyard by a strong dead man._"__Casterly Rock!" Jaime called out as his blade pierced the neck of one of the dead, though he stumbled back as the dead man turned his head and grabbed the knight and threw him far across the yard. There was a loud snap as Jaime hit the ground and cried out in pain. … The entire time, Ser Jaime did not relinquish his grip on his sword, though it was obvious that his arm was likely broken._

_**Review Response #5**_: To HermioneandMarcus, thanks for the comments! I'm glad you're still enjoying it!

_**Review Response #6**_: To LadyKatherine28, thanks for the comments! Your many comments at that! I'm always happy and excited to read feedback about my chapters :)

_**Review Response #7**_: To juniperwing, thanks for the review! I'll attempt ;P

_**Review Response #8**_: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks for the review! I'm sorry to break your heart so much :( Though I'm glad you see why it happened, and I hope you see the potential for development between Aegon and Arya, which will pretty much become much deeper even if they don't marry. I hope your continued reading will be worthwhile :D

_**Review Response #9**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the comments! Yeah Aegon is just terrible at most things he does, getting better though! Catelyn and Sansa were a bit out of tune with what was happening, though I don't blame Catelyn since she was just so excited. Sansa though... eh. Arya is a complicated character, and this'll give me a chance to really open her up more than George Martin if I can manage that somehow.

_**Review Response #10**_: To BetterThanLove, thanks for the comments! Aegon...realize...his mistakes? Ehhh wrong story ;) Nah he will eventually realize his faults, he's still undergoing development. Hopefully he'll one day rush back to Winterfell with a hundred roses and ask properly next time.

_**Review Response #11**_: To Frenchie, thanks for the review! Aegon is newly-ish 16 by about two months since chapter 6. I'm going by book age-standards, so Arya is nearly 11 (will be in a month as Septa Mordane noted) since it's about 2 years post-canon-start where she's 9. And it was quite strange for everyone else (since they assumed it was Sansa that Aegon had meant to marry) if that helps any. And he did say when she was of age (so he'd wait 3-4 years likely). Also if it's any consolidation, which it might not be... Drogo was in his 30s when he married 13 year old Dany. So really the only strangeness is Aegon's attraction to Arya (though it's debatable if it's feelings of love or simply he enjoys her friendship and doesn't understand marriage). Either way, a good point I actually didn't much consider, thank you for that! And I'm happy you're enjoying the story thus far! Poor Cersei, what did she ever do to- oh wait...

_**Review Response #12**_: To rubini25, thanks for the comments! I'm glad you're liking it still :) Well while this was a serious screwup for Aegon, and a real steamrolling of Arya by her mother and sister, it'll be a good chance for both of them. Now hopefully they can open up and reach some of their potentials, perhaps more than the books or show provide for them.

_**Review Response #13**_: To AryaxXxEragon, thanks for the review! Yeah this wasn't mean to really get so deep, touching on bookly topics so I put it in TV Shows. I _had_ hoped this would be maybe 10 chapters or so, but as you can tell I haven't even started to climb towards the climax of the story. I'm glad to have a Targaryen loyalist on my side! The Targaryens will hopefully receive much more justice than George Martin gave to them. Though he did give them dragons I guess. Aegon will hopefully do much more, and maybe Arya will be involved ;) Glad to have you as a reader!

_**Review Response #14**_: To mordinman, thanks for the comments! I'll attempt to keep things together as best I can with as little messing up as possible ;P

_**Review Response #15**_: To Guest, thank you for the review!

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	22. Chapter 21 - Horizons of Arryn

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 21: Horizons of Arryn**

"We are to be detained then?" Renly grit his teeth as he looked up at Jon Arry on his weirwood throne. "For following the orders of the Lord Hand?"

"I'm sorry Renly. It was the king himself who informed Lord Stark of the Baratheons preparing to commit high treason against the Iron Throne. They are to be considered enemies of the realm. It is the king's own word." Lord Arryn sighed as he leaned back against the wood, he too was disdained by the king's arbitrary attitude. Ned Stark had sent a raven to the Eyrie, passing on the king's message to his loyal lords about the plot to seize the Iron Throne by Stannis Baratheon.

"It was Lord Tyrion who sent us." Renly repeated this fact. "Surely he is someone that His Grace trusts, if only we could write to the king. Then he-"

"The king sails for the capital where he will command the surrender of those he deems to be traitors. Your brother and possibly yourself may be called to be put on trial by law before the king. It is my duty to keep you until such a time."

"Like hell you will!" Brienne snapped as she drew her sword. "We are loyal servants to King Aegon! Lord Renly risked his life and family honor to bring you this warning, on orders of the Hand!"

"Lady Brienne, sheath your sword." Jon Arryn frowned at her as the Arryn guard drew their weapons. Renly put his hand on Brienne's arm and she reluctantly lowered her blade before she slid it back into its sheath. "I understand your frustration, I truly do. When the king returns to King's Landing, I will send a raven on your behalf with the evidence of your innocence. The king has wise council and I believe that even if brought to trial for the sake of appearances, you will be found innocent of any charges."

"And until then, we are your prisoners." Loras added as he scoffed.

"Guests." Jon Arryn corrected him with a sour tone. "Prisoners stay in the sky cells. Guests stay in suites. You will be put under guard yes, but you will be treated as honored guests and given your proper dues."

"You are generous, Lord Arryn. I won't forget this." Renly tried to smile, this hadn't gone as expected but at least the Vale and apparently the North were already warned. Now it was a waiting game.

"And I am sure the king will not forget your risk, and will remember your loyalty. I will remind him that not all Baratheons are rebels. If a time comes for me to march with my banners at the king's call, should Lord Stannis not surrender peacefully, you may ride out with us."

"Thank you Lord Arryn. I appreciate it, as do my companions."

"We sure do." Loras groaned quietly.

* * *

The trio were brought to the Smith's Tower, atop was a moderate sized bedchamber with several smaller side-rooms and a balcony facing the south-east towards Blackwater Bay. While there was only one bed, Loras and Brienne insisted on not being separated from Renly and so there they were.

"A suite they call it." Loras grumbled as he looked around. The fine weirwood and oak furniture was masterfully carved and pieced together but for a Tyrell who enjoyed the comforts of the Reach, it was bare minimum.

"It's more than we need Ser Loras." Brienne stepped in, though she was as well used to the luxuries of Tarth.

"I think it's nice." Renly said as he sat on the large feather bed. It was far comfier than any bed in Storm's End, or perhaps he was simply no longer on edge.

"Do you think the king will brand us traitors?" Loras changed topics, talking about the decor was maddening him.

"I doubt it." Renly replied, simply put he saw no reason for Aegon to find him or the knights guilty of anything. "Especially when Lord Tyrion speaks with the king about the matter."

"I hope you're right my lord." Brienne shook her head.

"Do you have different feelings about it Lady Brienne?" Renly asked, Loras rolled his eyes.

"I... well I just don't know the king. I saw him only from a distance and never so much uttered a word to him. I don't know what kind of man he is."

"A stupid one." Loras muttered and Renly laughed.

"Are you still miffed that the king lost his temper with you?"

"I am not _miffed_. And he had no right to shout at me!"

"If you say so Loras..." Renly trailed off as he glanced away, the Flower Knight making a face behind his back.

"What... do you think of the king, Lord Renly?" Brienne asked after the silence began to weigh on them.

"I think he's an alright fellow. He's not very tall so they call him Aegon the Small... he very much hates that."

"The Child-King is another favorite." Loras added on, Renly nodded.

"Now many people call him Aegon the Unready, feeling he rushed to the throne when he came of age." The young stag shook his head. "I think he's been given an enormous task and no one's told him how to deal with it. I mean, ruling the Seven Kingdoms? I'm sure he'd struggle trying to run King's Landing."

"So is he incompetent?" Brienne asked.

"No... just very lonely." Renly looked at his feet.

"My lord..." Brienne looked at him. Renly knew the feeling of having no parent around. Only those far older than you who barely gave a glance. He loved his family dearly, especially Robert, but he despised that he had to grow up all alone.

"King Rhaegar died too soon. And Queen Elia gave all the life she had to bring His Grace into the world, often bedridden and ill for weeks on end. Aegon was heir to all and yet there was no one there for him, everyone was too busy playing politics." Renly laughed a bit. "So what the hell do they expect from a boy being forced to one day be a man?"

"Not to start a civil war. That would be nice." Loras scoffed.

"Ser Loras!" Brienne hissed. "If I have to tell you again to mind yourself-"

There was a sudden sound of an explosion, as if far in the distance but so very loud that even the Eyrie heard it. Brienne looked around in a panic as did Loras while Renly jumped up and ran out onto the balcony.

"Gods be good!" Renly said in disbelief, the two knights following after him to share in the shock.

"By the Seven..." Brienne whispered as she stared in the distance beyond the Vale. A thick pillar of black smoke poured into the sky and consumed the clouds in a thick ash. There was another explosion, and the smoke lit up red and yellow. Though they couldn't see where it came from, they certainly could fathom it.

"Dragonstone is burning." Renly muttered quietly as he watched.

"Dragonmont..." Brienne shook her head a few times. "All those people... Dragonmont hasn't erupted since before the Andals arrived..."

"Gods... Gods..." Loras kept repeating, not able to take it in.

"We need to speak to Lord Arryn again." Renly glanced to the two knights who had their eyes fixed on the horizon.

"Gods... the king!" Brienne bit her lip at the thought of the worst.

The days went by slowly, ravens were sent to all the coastal outposts of Blackwater Bay, to King's Landing, to the Stormlands, even to Dragonstone. Most of the ravens did not return, the few that did offered little good news. Jon Arryn was of course first to read through the returned letters, sorting the information to sift through gossip and false reports. In the meantime, everyone watched the black smoke fill the sky over the bay, some of it drifting over the Narrow Sea from eastward winds gusting by. Renly continuously tried to gain audience with Lord Arryn regardless of being told to wait, eventually being confined completely to the Smith's Tower.

"You should just sleep Renly..." Loras said as he watched the young stag pace up and down. Brienne hadn't slept much either since seeing the eruption, Loras had since he could put it out of his mind and imagined being home again. Renly had no such comfort.

"If the king is dead, there will be war between all Seven Kingdoms." Renly shook his head. "My brother has a weak claim but that won't stop him from skipping the politics and going right into a bloodbath."

"No one would want Stannis to be king..." Loras noted.

"Many innocents will die." Brienne did all she could not to think of it, but that was all her mind would focus on. All she could imagine were the people of Dragonstone, screaming for their lives as the fire took them, and then she thought of the war that was to come. Robert's Rebellion had been a disaster for the people, a true full-scale civil war might break the kingdoms.

"That's what war does." Loras shrugged.

"Gods be good, let the princesses be safe in the capital." Brienne shook her head over and over.

"Gods be good Viserys died at Dragonstone." Loras muttered. "Maybe he caused this..."

"Loras!" Brienne hissed.

"I don't want another Mad King." Loras hissed right back.

"Enough." Renly hushed them, as he leaned against a wall, pressing his head to the cold stone. "We'll just wait for news from Lord Arryn... it's all we can do."

"I wish I didn't have to bring news." Renly turned to see Jon Arryn opening the door. He looked as tired and pale as the rest of them.

"Lord Arryn!" Renly moved towards him anxiously. "Please tell me..."

"I'm afraid..." Jon Arryn shook his head. "I can hardly believe it myself if I hadn't had it confirmed by so many sources."

"What? What is it my lord?" Brienne was the most tense out of all of them, holding her hands together tightly.

"The princesses stowed away aboard the Gallant Dragon before it departed for the North... and Prince Viserys was already on Dragonstone from what I can tell." Lord Arryn frowned.

"Don't tell me that..." Renly too frowned gravely, glancing down as he braced himself.

"The king, and his family are dead. None of the bodies were recovered but there is confirmation the king and Prince Viserys were consumed by fire."

"Then there's a chance! They may have fled onto the Gallant Dragon and escaped!" Renly looked up at Jon Arryn who shook his head.

"The Gallant Dragon was not found, likely sunk off the coast. The Baratheon fleet searched and found nothing. No sign of any ships at the Dragonstone ports either..."

"Gods..." Brienne tried to breath normally.

"Wait... The Baratheon fleet?" Loras furrowed his brows.

"Yes, they searched for the wreckage as best they could while they evacuated the survivors. Thank the gods that the castle held back much of the volcano's wrath." Jon Arryn answered.

"But... it would take them at least four days with a good wind, a very good wind." Loras looked queerly at the Lord Arryn who also pieced it together.

"Gods. Then... no."

"I think Cersei or Stannis was already planning to kill the king at Dragonstone, this was just a convenient disaster." Loras said.

"Then it's very possible that the king is alive and in captivity of your brother." Jon looked at the young stag who nodded.

"Or somehow he escaped, but why was he at Dragonstone..." Renly questioned.

"And why was Viserys at Dragonstone?" Loras asked. "Lord Tyrion never told us..."

"Lord Arryn, with your permission we would like to be released." Renly said.

"Released?"

"I am no traitor to the Iron Throne. However the king may still yet live and still yet be in danger. Three can travel faster than an army and much less noticed. All we would need is a ship."

"Yes, of course. I'll have a ship made ready for you at Gulltown. I'll be sure to get you there as quickly as possible." Jon Arryn shook his head. "Gods what is going on?"

"We'll find the king. We'll bring him home." Brienne stood up from the bed, having something to strive for once again. She could not save the people of Dragonstone who died in the flames, but she could perhaps help save those who would die if war broke out.

"Will you join us Loras?" Renly asked, glancing at the Flower Knight who nodded.

"Where you go Renly, I'll go." Loras shrugged. "Gods be good to us."

"Then king may have escaped to the North again, I'll send a raven immediately to White Harbor and to Sunspear. Someone should know-"

"No. Not to Dorne. Lord Tyrion specifically told us not to inform the Dornish." Renly said as Jon Arryn looked at him surprised. "There may be a plot that Lord Doran is involved in."

"This is... oh gods." Jon Arryn sighed heavily. "Very well Lord Renly. I'll only send ravens to those I know are loyal to the Starks, someone must know where the king is, if he lives."

"Please let us know, my lord. We'll leave immediately and await news from you at Gulltown then."

"Yes. Yes of course. Come, I'll have an escort arranged this instant." Jon Arryn said as he headed for the door, with the trio following after him.

* * *

The Eyrie came alive after days of long tensions and worry as the three were set out with many knights going with them. Horses were made ready at several points for them to change over to, not wasting any time to reach Gulltown though it was more than a week even if they continued without rest. The tribes of the Vale gave them no trouble with so many swords around them, Brienne still remained ever vigilant and cautious as they rode onward while Loras kept spirits up with stories and songs that all joined to sing along with him. Renly was the quiet one, always reading or looking at maps. If they were to set out for the king, he wanted to have a plan no matter what direction they needed to go to. And he wanted to make sure they wouldn't have to split up, even if there were many places the king could be.

White Harbor would be the most ideal place for the king to go, but Renly worried that if the Baratheon fleet was after the Gallant Dragon, then Aegon would be forced out to sea. Such a great ship could not hope to flee, but out on the wild waters, it would stand its ground far better than any normal vessels. And if the king knew of his uncle's plot, then he would not hope to flee to Dorne. And if he were to sail to the Vale then they would meet with him soon enough, though the Crownland lords would have notified Lord Arryn by raven. Unless those lords were forced to be silent, but Renly doubted that to be the case.

So then that only left one plausible option. And best of all, no Westerosi lord would know that the king would be sailing there. Not even the Baratheon fleet would dare follow without explicit orders from Stannis. Renly grinned to himself as he looked at the map.

"The king is sailing for Essos." He whispered to himself as he glanced at the map of the Free Cities.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: Not an overly long chapter, but a well overdue one. I've had terrible writer's block but I knew I couldn't glaze over some details. I really want to get the trio involved with Aegon though as their own POV. So Dragonmont erupted, I can't imagine _who_ would cause that... My money is on Aegon or Viserys. Or maybe Danerys, she's good at flamey things. Next chapter won't be Dragonstone, instead it'll be something altogether, but there will be information about what happened at Dragonmont don't worry. Though faced with priceless dragon eggs... will everyone remain loyal to Aegon? Remember to review or Cersei will... well it's actually getting as bad as it can until she finds a way to move into King's Landing. That'll be fun.

_**Review Response**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the review! Manderly, for me I find he's a bit of an idiot. He does have his smart moments but really... I think he's just past his expiration date. I think the two Jon's needed a bit of space for themselves to clear some things up. As well I also think Snow and Aegon needed to fist out their tensions. Well it _would_ be easy for Aegon to go back and speak to Robb... but perhaps someone's told him about what's on Dragonstone?

_**Review Response #2**_: To AryaxXxEragon, thanks for the review! Glad you're liking it! Arya and Aegon definitely will have adventures, likely apart from one another but at the same time connected... you'll see what I mean when it happens. Here's to hoping it turns out well!

_**Review Response #3**_: To carlita290591, thanks for the comments! And thank you so much for thinking so :D

_**Review Response #4**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the review! Aegon's dreaming is chaotic, much more than we would see with Bran but it is slowly becoming critical to his decision making. So is Aegon saw the Dragonclaw in Westeros and a dragon in Essos... chances are they won't be staying together. And as for the Targaryen sword, that will still be awhile! Being lost for ages means it takes time to find them ;)

_**Review Response #5**_: To HermioneandMarcus, thanks for the comments! I'm glad you're still enjoying it!

_**Review Response #6**_: To The Black King, thanks for the comment! They'll have more together, hopefully ;)

_**Review Response #7**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks for the review! Glad you're liking it :D Oberyn for me is a hands-on does-what-he-fancies sort of man. He went to be a Maester and then changed his mind, he sailed to Braavos himself to... uh sign things. So it seemed very fitting that instead of just subduing Seawood, Oberyn would just take over as captain for his own enjoyment. Sadly Elia had nothing to do with that, it was likely Varys. Though you're right, Elia though having a tendency to be very ill often, she has managed to survive to see her son take the throne... I think she deserves her own chapter. One with Cersei and Joffrey maybe.

_**Review Response #8**_: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks for the review! I'm glad you're not giving up, the story is just getting started after all ;) So much to go on between Arya and Aegon yet to come.

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	23. Chapter 22 - Lyseni Slaveboy

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 22: Lyseni Slaveboy**

The long leather crop slapped on his back, leaving a bruise upon the bruise already red on his pale flesh as he walked forward. His head and hands were locked in a stock that kept his arms elevated, unable to fight against the whip handler or anyone else. He had the ill luck of being last in the line of slaves, so the crop often struck him more than the others. At the least, the slaver had not used the nine-tailed whip with its sharp ends. That was reserved for punishment only, since damaged goods sold for much less in the auction.

This slave had brilliant silver-blond hair and fair skin that was admired by many in the soft morning light. His eyes remained focused on the ground, not daring to look at any of the slavers for fear of igniting their wroth. Instead he followed the line of slaves as they stepped up onto the large stone platform where the auctioneer was selling off the last slave from the first batch. And as the slave with silver-blond hair stepped up, many in the crowd murmured.

He was young and though he did not look too strong, he was still good for some manual labor. If he were lucky, he might find himself doing household chores or acting as a valet for one of the high nobles of Tyrosh. At worst he would find himself doing some hard labor that would kill him within weeks, but many of the patrician representatives had other ideas. Lots of wealthy men and women enjoyed slender boys in their beds, so at best he could hope to be a pleasure slave for someone who was not too old, not too fat, and not too cruel. There was tales of beautiful young mistresses who would burn off the manhood of their slaves if they did not provide adequate pleasure. These whispers were often seeded by guards who would tell such stories to the slaves to watch them quiver in fright just for a laugh or two.

"Sold! Eighteen silver!" The auctioneer called in very broken Common Tongue, likely it was not only the Tyroshi present at the sale. The slave at the front of the line was quickly sold. A young girl, nearly naked saved for a torn skirt, wearing also a swollen cheek she got when she refused the guards the night before. Her buyer was a lowly fat merchant who looked like he saved up a great deal to buy her, his greedy stubby fingers anxious to touch his purchase.

It had been like that for all of them one way or another. The Tyroshi slavers were ruthless and without any sense of decency. Everyone was forced to watch all the girls be raped by the guards brutally, slapped around until their screams were silent. They were even being covered in unspeakable things if they continued to be defiant. The older men were tripped and shoved, made to eat the dirt and rotten meat which they only denied so much since they hadn't been fed in days if not weeks. The boys including the silver-blond one were also shoved around and slapped in face and kicked in their groins, much to the amusement of their captors. The night ended when the guards grew bored and all the slaves were cowering against the walls, covered in filth, piss, dung, and their own blood. Every day and night was like this, all to break their spirit for their selling day. And it had been nearly a fortnight since the silver-blond one entered the pens, and more than a month since he had been captured after being separated from his family.

The next two slaves went for very cheap, very few joined in as one was too old and the other was missing a hand. The third slave was bid on by many of the merchants who dabbled in armor smithing, as the man was still in his prime and had large muscles, perfect for wielding a hammer. The fourth and fifth also went quick, both girls who were older but still very beautiful. And the sixth, also a girl who was older almost caused a small riot as two men got into a bidding war over her until one finally backed down. Then came another older slave that no one wanted, he would be put to the sword later that day. It went on and on. Each time the auctioneer shouted _sold _in one language or another, the slave at the end of the line shuddered as he came closer to the block. If no one bid on him, he would be put to death like the old slave mid-way in-line.

"Aben! Avar gari as bainos benni fingah cele! A good Lyseni boy!" The auctioneer announced the short introduction for him now. _A pretty boy with silver hair_ he had called him in the Tyroshi bastard Valyrian. Most Lyseni has fair skin and hair, so he was hardly something special but platinum-blond hair was less common so perhaps the auctioneer hoped to get a little more.

"Start at eight silver!" He called as he took bids. Eleven. Twelve. Fourteen. It was steadily rising, one large man was continuously bidding, licking his lips at the boy. Soon it was a bidding war between the big man and another large man as all other bidders shied away, though this man was large because of his armor. The boy wasn't sure who to hope for, the fat man who'd use his body in every filthy way or the sellsword who would use him as a pack mule and drag him off to war.

"Fifty-one!" The large man called out finally, raising the bid from thirty-two much to the enjoyment of the boy's slaver.

"Eighty." The man in armor said calmly, the crowd was quiet as they watched amusingly at the war going on.

"Ninety!" The fat man was getting red in the face.

"One-fifty!"

"One-sixty!" The fat man was now shouting angrily.

"Three-hundred silver!" The man in armor seemed impatient but very willing to pay high for the boy. Though it worried the slave that a sellsword had so much Tyroshi silver to throw away on a small backwater slave market, perhaps he represented someone higher. Either way, his bid left the fat man now purple in the face with rage and the boy's slaver wet in his pants with total glee.

"Sold! Three-hundred silver!" The auctioneer shouted as the crowd began to cheer and laugh as the large man sunk away from the scene while the sellsword moved to the front to pay and claim his purchase. "Uthia avi fingbenni aro!" _Enjoy your silver boy sir_.

"_Tinaso_" The sellsword spat as he practically threw the pouch of coin at the auctioneer. Even the slave boy was a bit surprised that he told the man, very rudely, to be quiet. Though by the sound of it, it was probably the only word of Valyrian he knew. The auctioneer wore an annoyed face and gestured for the guards to hurry and hand over the slave. His stock was taken off and the sellsword refused to have the boy in a collar, instead he took him as is. The auctioneer couldn't have cared less as they brought the third line of slaves onto the platform just as the silver-blond boy got down and followed the sellsword. Not that he had much choice as the sellsword led him by the arm, but he wasn't rough with the slave however.

The slave took the time to look at his buyer as they walked, a large strong-looking man who was balding but still was somewhat handsome with his rough features. He wore chainmail with some plates on his shoulder and over his heart, with leather sleeves covering his arms. Being next to him, the boy felt naked as he wore only tattered pants with nothing else, not even sandals for his feet. Everything he had owned before being a slave was gone now, at least he was somewhat clean since the slavers had dunked him in water to wash him quickly.

Arriving at a large establishment, the sellsword let him go in first through the double-door opening that was left ajar to intrigue potential clients. Inside it smelt like spices, wine and cum as women danced in men's laps and presented themselves lewdly. There were large pillows around tables in which clients relaxed in, some leaning against the great marble pillars that lined the rooms that were separated by silk drapes. Silver and bronze goblets were scattered on the tables with women's underthings between or on them. The servants were dressed in fine linens and silks, the women dressed even finer if they were dressed at allwhile they allowed themselves to be groped and even taken publicly by rowdy men. For all it was in its richness, it was still a dirty whorehouse.

"Come." The sellsword said quietly as he walked by one of the hostesses who bowed to him and welcomed him back. Perhaps he was no simple sellsword after all. And the slave was starting to get worried, the fat man he could have knocked down but this man was probably very tough and would likely have no trouble raping him even if he struggled. What could he do though, running would get him killed and trying to plead would likely only excite the man. He was out of time soon enough as they got to a large suite, surprisingly void of any women.

The sellsword finally let him go and the slave stepped forward away from him as the man locked the door. It was now or never. The time he went without food or water left him weary, but there was no choice. He'd have to fight with all he had in him to escape now.

'_Fire and blood_.' He thought as he turned around, ready to dive at his buyer only to find the sellsword down on one knee with his head lowered.

"My king." The man muttered.

"...You knew." Aegon said shocked beyond any belief he could have.

"Yes, your Grace. I knew."

"How though?" Aegon asked frowning. Though absolutely grateful to be saved from slavery by an apparent ally, he was wary of the circumstances.

"It is easy to spot a Targaryen being presented as a Lyseni. And there are those on the inside who took the time to identify have many friends in Essos, my king, and I am just a messenger. There are eyes everywhere and when you were found, I was fortunate enough to be in Myr and rode my horse to death to get to a Tyroshi ferry."

"And the silver? Surely that was a hefty price."

"Worth it all, your Grace. The funds came from a reserve, there is no need to repay."

"I... I mean to repay you. I'm merely baffled by all of this. I thought I'd die in the sea and then I thought I'd die a slave. Worse yet if I had spoken my name..."

"You would have been sold to those in Westeros who hate your name. Or have your head sent to them to save them the trouble." The sellsword answered and Aegon nodded.

"I would have your name though."

"Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island, your Grace." He said finally looking up. "I cannot say who sent me, if you would forgive me that, they wish to remain unknown until a better time. They hope however that this proves that they are your friends and that they wholeheartedly wish to see you back on the Iron Throne as soon as possible."

"Mormont?... Are you related to the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch?"

"Yes, my king. I am the only son of Joer Mormont, now Lord Commander Mormont."

"What are you doing in Essos, Ser?"

"I fled Westeros when Ned Stark called for my head." Jorah said and stood as Aegon gestured him to get up.

"Why did Lord Stark do such a thing?"

"I sold to slavers, your Grace." He admitted and Aegon frowned, not very pleased with slavers after experiencing firsthand the pains of slavery.

"Why?" Aegon asked, unsure of how to feel.

"Poachers on my land, I needed money. For an expensive wife."

"That's..." Aegon shook his head, dismissing the topic. "And what do you want of me now? I owe you a great debt Ser."

"I come on behalf of friends. For myself, I hope to prove my loyalty to you and ask for a royal pardon one day."

"One day?" Aegon raised a brow.

"Yes, your Grace. What occurred today was not my doing, I was merely in the right place at the right time to do the bidding of your allies. I still have yet to prove myself to you. Consider this opportunity a repayment of the debt, if it pleases you."

"It does. Thank you Ser Jorah." Aegon looked at the man who lowered his head at the king's stare, like a stray dog with no bite in it anymore. Though the Targaryen was sure that the bear had something left in him, a great deal of something.

"If it pleases you, my king. We should sail for Pentos immediately."

"Pentos? Meeting your friends... though I'm grateful to them, will have to wait. I need to find my companions, my sister and my aunt." Aegon said simply.

"My friends are not in Pentos, your Grace, but the princesses are along with your Kingsguard." Jorah answered.

"What? Gods be praised they're alright... Those traitorous Dornish sailors are hopefully all dead." Aegon trailed off as he glanced to the side.

"Traitors? What happened your Grace? There was news that you fled Dragonstone and sailed for Essos... yet..."

"Yes... my uncle... Oberyn Martell, he told no one of where we were going. He didn't trust the men, and for good reason apparently." Aegon frowned. "There was a mutiny, a bloody one. I was thrown overboard by the former captain's men. Best to kill your master's enemy when you have the chance. And plunder the riches before you..."

"Thank the gods for the Red Viper then." Ser Jorah nodded

"Yes... though I'm unsure if I can blame the men. What I had, they lusted for..."

"These riches... I heard some frightening stories, your Grace. Of your..." He sounded a little worried, Aegon only grinned.

"My dragons." Aegon said as he looked to Jorah who seemed to be unsure how to react.

"Dragons?" The knight asked in disbelief as if to confirm what he just heard.

"Yes. My dragons. Worth betraying all oaths for, just to steal them and sell to the highest bidder. Just like I had been. Perhaps Tyroshi slavers saved my life, I nearly drowned as it were, but..." Aegon's smile became cruel. "In fire, and in blood... Tyrosh will pay a thousand thousand times the indignity and pain I suffered. The city will burn and its people will beg for a mercy that I will not bestow. And those who try to do me harm, will be devoured by flames."

* * *

The Targaryen stronghold waited for them with its dragon-peaked towers and it's black stoned walls. With the fiery Dragonmont rumbling quietly behind the castle with the fishing villages below, the Gallant Dragon lowered anchor just off the shore and readied the rowboats. Aegon went with his Kingsguard but bid Daenerys and Rhaenys to remain behind and await his return. The people of Dragonstone rushed to greet the king but he ignored each and every one of them as he made his way to the castle on foot. The steward of Dragonstone opened the gates and welcomed Aegon with open arms, with praises and words of joy. Yet Aegon ignored him too.

"Remain here. And wait for me." He ordered to the Kingsguard and to Jon Snow, though there were protests, the king silenced them all. And so they stood in the courtyard as Aegon made his way to the side of the great keep where the gates to the crypt were. He had never been to Dragonstone, yet he knew it as if he had lived here all his life. The thick bars of the iron gate were heaved open by guards, the blackened metal so heavy that two men were needed to pull each side open after unlocking it. Aegon did not need to ask if Viserys was already inside, he already knew he was.

The crypt was a long corridor going at a moderately steep slope, with black and grey brick lining it. Small glass lanterns burned seemingly eternal, embedded into the vaulted ceiling, giving off a faint blue light. There were many chambers on either side, small tombs for ancient Targaryens and their servants of old. Aegon paid them no heed as he had to move on to a different area of the crypt, one that had had no brick, only chiseled rock walls and no glass lanterns nor any torches since no one was meant to be down here. The further Aegon walked through the dark, the louder Dragonmont became with its rumbling and soon the sound of the bay's water joined in from a distance as he went into the belly of the mountain.

Soon light began to fill the corridor in the distance as did the sound of laughter. And there was a great heat and the foul smell of smoke and sulfur coming from the area. At last he arrived to a large oval chamber that was carved from the rock with a wall breaching the pit of Dragonmont's summit where a large pool of molten lava bumbled far below. That was the source of the heat and the smell. The rock was carved to create a ledge all around the room with a deep indent below with large casks placed on sand spread all around under the ledge. The casks were covered with a thick layer of wax to dampen the heat and protect the fickle liquid inside. And resting on the ledge on piles of powdered dragonglass were eggs. Fourteen dragon eggs.

Each of a different color, some shimmered while some were dull. A few had streaks of gold and red, some had spirals of green or blue, while only one was completely white with only its crown a pale yellow. They were magnificent each and every one of them as they soaked in the light and heat from the volcano, reflected in by the dragonglass lining the volcano's pit, making it seem like a hall of mirrors.

"Mine. Mine. Mine." Viserys kept repeating as he cradled one of the eggs, petting it continuously. Aegon would have been surprised by this chamber that had been carefully planned out and made just for the eggs and their potential to hatch, but Jon Connington had explained it all to him. It had taken six years for them to dig the chamber and even longer to assemble so many eggs, as well as enough wildfire to hatch them. The plan had been to throw the wildfire into the lava and set off tamed explosions that would create an intense heat in the chamber. Likely the one who would try to hatch the eggs, would perish.

At first Aegon was angry at the secrecy, and then merely disdained, but soon became lustful for the eggs just as Viserys had been when he had come across them only two days before. Viserys' lust was that of a madman, not eating or drinking as he sweat away all his bodily fluids from the volcano's heat, now wheezing with each breath and trembling. Aegon's lust was something else, something more. Vicious and calm at the same time, proud but humbled altogether, knowing that he had to stake a claim or lose it all. His lust was that of the Dragon, wanting its children to rise from the ashes.

"Viserys." Aegon said, his words came just as the lava bumbled and the mountain let out a low roar. His uncle jumped, started as he turned to him, dropping the egg. The large petrified stone fell and hit the ground hard yet it did not shatter. Instead, it left the rock floor cracked.

"You!... No! You! You! You're dead! You're supposed to be dead! The Lannisters! The Lannisters said! They said!" He shouted as he pointed at his nephew and soon began to laugh. "This is all mine! All mine! I'm king at last!"

"Viserys. These are mine." Aegon said calmly, but he smiled at his uncle. It was a cold smile like the dragons at the Field of Fire grinning down at the armies of the Rock and Reach.

"What? NO! You can't have them! They're MINE!" He shouted, suddenly panicking as he fell to the ground and picked up the egg. He had burn marks on his hands and arms from the eggs which had heated up, and his face looked like it was sunburnt as well.

"They are mine." Aegon said again.

"NO!" Viserys shouted, edging back as he reached for one of the caskets under the ledge. He yanked it out and held it with some trouble in one arm, the egg in the other. The maddened Targaryen stumbled to his feet and sat on the hot ledge between two eggs.

"That's wildfire." Aegon warned him as he watched his uncle hold the casket, no longer protected under the ledge from the heat.

"I'll kill you! My dragons will kill you!" Viserys shouted as he laughed, throwing the casket. With much of his strength gone, the casket basically just toppled onto the floor and broke, the wildfire spilling everywhere, soaking into the sand under the ledge and soaking into the rock even where Aegon was. He was actually surprised the wildfire did not combust from the impact.

"You fool." Aegon grinned, not moving even as he stood in a shallow puddle of wildfire.

"Fool? You're the fool! These are MINE! MINE! You brat!" Viserys hissed and began to laugh again. "Dracaryis! Dracaris!"

"_Dracarys_." Aegon corrected him just as the wildfire quickly heated up and soon ignited into a green-yellow blaze. For every egg there were at least sixround caskets of wildfire sitting under them, each stirring from the first lighting up. Nearly all at once they went off together, an explosion of man-made flame that roared around and made the rock shudder and shake. So much that Dragonmont woke and summoned up a roar of its own, this one not low but instead mighty and strong.

The entire island was given a single but extremely violent shake as the volcano bellowed, the black cloud began to thicken as it poured from the summit while green fire burst out among the smoke and ash. Aegon felt the heat of the wildfire as it left the confines of the chamber and poured into the volcano while some rushed up through the crypt. He did not burn though he was knocked clear off his feet, but Viserys didn't even have time to scream from the intense flame that consumed them him entirely. The green flames rushed up the corridor and exploded out of the gate. The two guards standing at the post were smothered in it, they yelled and fell to the ground as the wildfire burned through their armor and melted their bone quickly just as everyone else was knocked to the ground from the earthquake.

"Aegon!" Jon Connington shouted at the top of his lungs as he stumbled up to his feet. Jon Snow and Ser Barristan grabbed him to hold the knight back as he flailed to get away from them. "Let me go! Let me go!"

Another burst of flame came from the crypt, startling them and knocking them back from the surprise. Connington began to sob as he punched the ground.

"Gods! Gods! Dammit! I should have gone with him! Gods! Aegon!" The knight cried out, the other two pulled him to his feet and dragged him away from the crypt as fire burst every now and then from it until it calmed.

"We can't... we can't stay here." Ser Barristan said as he looked to the other Kingsguard. "Help evacuate the people!"

"Aegon!" Connington called out and everyone looked at him and then to where his eyes were locked. Aegon stepped through the melted gate, naked with his skin burning like embers. On each of his shoulders perched a small dragon, with a third hanging on his arm.

"My king... My Silver King..." Jon Connington whispered as he kept his eyes on Aegon, his long silver hair flowing in the hot wind with the dragons roaring.

"...My king." Jaime Lannister dropped to his knees and lowered his head, in as much disbelief as the rest of them. It was if the gods came before him and demanded his solemn vows of knighthood renewed.

"Gods..." Snow muttered as he stared, the moment of shock broken as the volcano let out another roar, a jet of red and green fire spurting from its mouth as smoke now smothered the sky, with lava splattering around the crown of Dragonmont. Another violent shake came with the Dragonmont's cry as it erupted and let loose catapulted flame on the castle.

"We leave at once!" Aegon called out. "Have every ship in port made ready and empty the island of the populous!"

"...At once... my king..." Ser Barristan muttered, bowing deeply. Some of the other Kingsguard however, had other ideas in mind as they drew their swords.

* * *

"Dragons." Ser Jorah remarked still in disbelief as Aegon finished telling his tale from the coronation to the Wall to the birth of three dragons that had cried out as they left Dragonstone.

"Yes. My dragons." Aegon answered him. He wore clothes and sandals hardly fit for his status but he didn't care, he was at least clean and his minor wounds had been tended to. They had left Tyrosh two days earlier and were making good time, Pentos was already in the distance. Aegon wouldn't have imagined that a small ship could move so fast, after sailing on the Gallant Dragon which took a great deal of time.

"I hope you do not have mistrust for me, your Grace. Few men experience such betrayal, in so short a time." Jorah looked at Aegon who grinned.

"Three of my Kingsguard bent the knees. Four of them drew steel." Aegon started to laugh a bit. "And then the sailors who were meant to provide protection, tried to murder me."

"I am sure the three that remain are loyal to you, my king."

"Only two came with me. I sent Ser Connington and his squire away to the North."

"Ser Connington? To Lord Stark?" Ser Jorah asked, he did not want to firmly question the king whom he wanted good favor with.

"Yes. Ser Connington is my most loyal knight, and his squire is Eddard Stark's son. I would have them help defend the North that has proven their devotion to me." Aegon said, though he didn't want to mention his dreams to the Bear Knight just yet. As long as Jon Snow had the Valyrian blade with the white-dragon pommel, Aegon felt he would return home safely.

"Which Kingsguard did come with you, my king?"

"Ser Jaime Lannister. And Ser Barristan Selmy."

"Gods." Ser Jorah chuckled. "A fierce lion, the Bold Knight and the Red Viper. I almost feel sorry for the sailors."

"I don't." Aegon didn't even look at the knight who was now regretting his jest "They got what they deserved. The next time I cross the Narrow Sea, it will be with men who are loyal to me. And to me alone."

"As.. you say, your Grace."

'_Fire and blood_.' Aegon glanced up at the sky. '_I dare another man to cross me._'

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: Yes, many details were glossed over, for the sake of your imaginations. Aegon seems to be turning into canon-Viserys/Daenerys a little bit... twisted by betrayal, though at least he's not begging. Will he end up being a sad main character in the end? Oh also, I did some quick storyboard sketching and I have about 60-70 chapters to go before the conclusion, not counting anymore side-things I might add in. I know it seems like a lot... I know it is a lot but I really hope this will provide a similar experience to ASOIAF but through the life of Aegon and his reign, to know where the Targaryens would have been and where they would go had King's Landing not been sacked. I hope I've made him out to be a unique character with all the Targaryen traits you'd expect. And I also hope you're unsure if he's mad or just a very angry person. Though then again, Aerys wasn't quite so mad in his younger years...

So now that I have much of the main plot lined up to be written, I want to know what YOU would like. There's so much that will happen, but what views would you like seen? Yes there will be Targaryen swords, Arya and Aegon will have more chapters, Arya and Melisandre will have a chapter (that'll be fun...), Cersei even gets a chapter if you can believe that. The Greyjoys have an area of the plot, though it's as minor as the Tyrells who are also in there. Jon Snow takes command and Arya has some self-searching done. Aegon's dreams become wild and intense to the point where he nearly dies. Queen Elia will get some well-deserved overdue chapters. Tyrion gets a few chapters as well as his own ending that is very different from the canon. Actually many characters get an ending different from the canon, some better some worse. There is involvement with the White Walkers that may or may not have a solution as with the canon (to avoid spoilers and to pursue my own extreme creativity). We'll also get to see Valyria and Casterly Rock explored.

Overall I think I'll leave most questions answered in the end, most reader desires fulfilled and yeah... This does not mean Aegon will or will not marry, but there will be a definite answer to that question eventually. If he does not marry, there will be something to fill the void, don't worry. There are a few characters of note that don't get much attention like in the canon (like Bran or Sansa), as well some characters do not get endings at all. Just because... no reasoning... besides the fact that I'm not _that_ creative to think up something for all of them. Ideas?

_**Review Response**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks for the review! I feel like Jon Arryn got a bit glorified in-canon. He was a capable man but then again, he wasn't able to control Robert or see through the Lannister conspiracy and ultimately died of it. I'm glad you like how Renly is turning out, I feel he got the short end of the stick (being dead and all) so I thought he really deserved to at least get some limelight.

_**Review Response #2**_: To The Black King, thanks for the comment! Not quite what you mean though.

_**Review Response #3**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the review! Out of everyone I'm sure Cersei knows nothing about the dragon eggs, and if she did, I... actually don't know what she'd do. Probably smash them. Though now Aegon apparently has the dragons, and people are already literally dying to get hold of them. How Aegon would react to meeting Renly is up in the air, it depends on the time and place probably, though likely being a Baratheon won't help Renly's case.

_**Review Response #4**_: To Zireael07, thanks for the comment! Glad you liked it!

_**Review Response #5**_: To ardleighstreet, thanks for the review! Hope you continue to enjoy it :)

_**Review Response #6**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the comment! Well... a little bit of A, a little bit of B. With enough wildfire, you too can cause freak disasters! I'd have to say it was a 'natural' eruption triggered by a man-made explosion that Viserys set off by exposing the wildfire to the heat. I suppose Dragonmont was a better alternative to another Summerhall... though that's pretty much what went on in the end. At least now we know wildfire constitutes into Targaryen fire-immunity. I doubt volcanic eruption does.

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	24. Chapter 23 - Token to the Horde

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 23: Token to the Horde**

"Please your Grace, this was done only as a service to you." The fat man tried convince Aegon as he watched the Targaryen Dragonlord pace briskly back and forth. Sitting on the bannister of the balcony, just outside the grand suite loaned to Aegon and his company within the manse, were the three dragons. They quietly hissed and chirped as they watched their Father.

The first was Balerion, named for the Black Dread since the dragonling had scales as dark and polished as onyx with gold and red flecks around his eyes and along his back to the tip of his tail. The second, named Rhaegal for the Bard King, was a dirty-white color with specks of sky blue doting around his face and feet, his belly was a truer white that contrasted to the rest of his body. And the last was Viserion, for his fickle nature that so resembled the dead Viserys and to remember that although Viserys meant to do harm, he was a Targaryen. His named-dragon was scarlet all over, dark on his lower areas and lighter as it went up until the head which was a swirl of orange and rose.

"A service? I do not appreciate the ladies of my family being sold off like whores. They are royal princesses!" He hissed back at the man. "I would expect better of a Magister of Pentos."

"A thousand pardons your Grace!" Illyrio tried to be as sincere as he could be, but he was becoming frustrated with the runaway king. "I thought it would be best to secure your release. The opportunity seemed perfect, I so swear it..."

"So because a Dothraki horde stabled itself at the edge of the city, you thought it would be best to hand over my sister and my aunt to them in exchange for their sacking of Tyrosh instead of Pentos?" Aegon shouted and Illyrio bowed his head.

"Only to free you. Ser Oberyn and Ser Barristan told me how you were thrown overboard, and when news came that you were in Tyrosh... We did not know that you were not being held as a royal hostage. I would have purchased your freedom had I known it be so simple!"

"And miss the chance to make a profit with the Dothraki? I doubt it." Aegon spat and the magister backed away, knowing the stories of the king's temper. And his fire magic.

"Please see this as your own chance to profit, my king... The Dothraki will give you an army, and you could return to Westeros with more strength than you could ask for to crush your enemies."

"I have strength!" Aegon shouted, louder this time causing his voice to echo as his children chippered. "I have dragons you fool!"

"They are still _young_, my king." Illyrio reminded him which won him a deathly glare from the king.

"Speak to me like that again magister, I dare you..." Aegon hissed.

"Forgive me if I gave offense your Grace... kings are not like lesser men, you see the big picture, I see the details. I merely-"

"And treat me like a fool and I will gut you like a beastbefore I feed you to my children while you still draw breath." The king snapped, Viserion roaring in a low squeaky-tone as it reacted to his Father's voice which made the other two join in with excitement. Balerion stood up on his feet and stumbled around, bumping into Viserion and laying down once more.

"Your... Well your Grace... please just consider the idea of having an army forty-thousand strong at your back. As well as your dragons." Illyrio smiled, Aegon scoffed, unable to be convinced. The king walked back and forth again, though not as anxiously as before.

"I can't believe they agreed to this."

"It was their idea. The princesses love you deeply, my king."

"I also cannot believe that Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime allowed this! Or my uncle! I would have the bastard's head were he not my mother's brother." Aegon hissed.

"It was not their decision to make. And Ser Oberyn put up quite the argument against the princesses, they are strong-minded women, especially your royal sister." Illyrio reminded him, receiving another glare. Ser Barristan had stuttered a lengthy apology whilst Oberyn Martell said the same as Illyrio, that the princesses had made a choice to save their brother. And Ser Jaime, he had been praying for all the days and nights Aegon had been absent. The king wished that Ser Jorah had stayed, his company had been well-enough considering the situation. Yet the Bear Knight insisted he had to return to his friends who were biding their time until they could fully back Aegon's reconquest. In the meantime, his survival was kept as best a secret as it could be. Though that would not last long with word of the dragons spreading like wildfire in the wood.

"Is there no way to reverse this?"

"Well... Princess Daenerys was wed to Khal Drogo two days ago. The next wedding of Princess Rhaenys to Cohollo, the oldest of the khal's bloodriders will be likely on the morrow if not the day after. Dothraki go by the omens that they see in visions and the like."

"Bloodriders?" Aegon asked as he finally took a seat. The magister did not waste this chance to join him, gesturing for a servant to bring them wine.

"Yes. They serve the khal like brothers but only more loyally. They avenge him if he falls in battle and then follow him to the grave, to ride with him in their afterlife."

"A Kingsguard of sorts then."

"Oh no." Illyrio corrected. "A Kingsguard, as we know can betray. Generally bloodriders are true to their oaths and would forsake all other things before their khal."

"I would have to see that to believe it." Aegon said as he took the silver goblet from the tray as a servant presented it to him, sipping the wine slowly. "So then cancel the wedding. At least we can stop these savages from raping my sister."

"It's... not so simple, your Grace. Rhaenys gave herself to the Dothraki so they will give an army in return, they will not return what is given. If you wish to retrieve her, you must claim her."

"Claim her?" Aegon asked and the magister nodded. "So... kill the bloodrider?"

"I doubt Khal Drogo would allow that... but besting him in combat might have the same effect. Dothraki submit if they are beaten, they cut of their braids and present them to their victors. Well... if said-victors do not scalp them."

"And that's why the horselords have long braided hair then." Aegon sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I am not very skilled with a sword I'm afraid."

"Then... we will have to appeal to Drogo."

"The Dragon does not appeal to anyone." Aegon glanced at Illyrio. "When can I see him?"

* * *

The nine towered manse echoed with several sorts of music, heavy perfumes and Dothraki were scattered about on fine cushions, drinking wines and mare milk. Servants with bronze collars carried large platters of food to the warriors, young Pentoshi children danced and played instruments for the amusement of the horde elite. Khal Drogo sat with his new wife on great stone bench raised on a dias with his bloodriders just below. Rhaenys sat even lower with other women, Dothraki wives no doubt. The horselords were dressed in silks and linen instead of their usual leather and wool attires.

This was both a celebration of the khal's wedding still ongoing and for Cohollo's wedding to come on the morrow. Khal Drogo was watching two of his warriors wrestle, laughing all the meanwhile, occasionally looking down at Daenerys who smiled timidly back at him. He had never given her such glances before their wedding night, now Drogo seemed intent on Daenerys being content. At least bearably so.

Illyrio entered first and bowed in the direction of Drogo who did not see him or if he did, then ignored him, but when Aegon entered with his dragons riding on him, the music slowed down and stopped which caused everyone to notice now. Daenerys and Rhaenys both lighted up when they saw him, surprised and completely ecstatic though they remained silent for the moment.

"Khal Drogo!" Aegon shouted over the Dothraki, many of the warriors getting to their feet. Drogo watched him, unphased as Balerion and Rhaegal let out tiny roars.

"_Khal Zhavorsa_" Drogo chuckled as he rose up. He was clearly not frightened by the sight of the three creatures, though many warriors and servants whispered as they stared, some even dared to point. Of course the stories of Aegon had spread through the _khalisar_ but to see the winged beasts even as small as they were, frightened even some of the hardened horselords.

"He calls you the _Dragon King_, your Grace." Illyrio whispered after one of his servants translated for him.

"You have my sister." Aegon said as he glanced to Rhaenys and then up to Daenerys. "Both of them."

"Both?" Illyrio asked quietly but Aegon dismissed his question. It would be easier to name both of them his sisters, to simplify it. It was not as if Drogo would know magister's servant translated as Drogo stepped down the dias, his bloodriders standing with him.

"_Daeneryo anni esa_." Drogo replied, grinning slightly.

"He claims that the Princess Daenerys is his, your Grace." Illyrio whispered.

"Aegon!" Daenerys said as she stood up and stepped down to take Drogo's arm reluctantly but it was not fear that was in her eyes, at least not for herself. "It's alright. It was... my choice to make. I'm glad you're alright."

"Dany. Rhae. You can't be serious." Aegon frowned.

"At least we'll have an army." Rhaenys smirked, but it didn't help with Aegon's worry. Drogo watched them speak before he glanced down at his bride, then to Aegon. He whispered some words to a Pentoshi servant.

"The khal says that you cannot have the bride. Omen speaks that she must have a husband." The servant girl said as she bowed her head to Aegon.

"I will be her husband." Aegon answered and the girl translated causing Drogo to give him a strange look before he spoke to the servant.

"The khal thinks that she is your sister and that you cannot marry her."

"I am of Old Valyria, it is common for us to wed our family." Aegon answered and the girl spoke to Drogo who laughed quite loud before he nodded, speaking to the girl again.

"The khal says you may have the unwed sister for yourself." The servant girl said as she bowed her head to Aegon. "If you can best the man to be her husband in a man's game, in combat."

"I accept." Aegon said without a thought, Rhaenys stood up.

"Aegon! Don't be an idiot!" She hissed at him. "We did this for your sake, don't throw your life away now!"

"I know what I'm doing Rhae." Aegon said as he glanced behind him to Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime. "Your arms, hold them out."

"Uh... yes your Grace." Ser Barristan muttered unsure, but they both did as they asked. Jaime's arm was still unwell but it functioned again at the least. When they extended their arms out, Aegon held his out and the dragons skipped over to the knights. Two scurried up to Jaime's shoulders while Balerion went and sat on Selmy's shoulder. Jaime stood still and glanced between the two dragons as he smirked slightly, Ser Barristan was quite a bit more jumpy however. The king then turned to Drogo who laughed a bit, Aegon smiled as Cohollo stepped forward with his arakh in hand. Aegon turned again and drew Ser Barristan's sword and walked towards the bloodrider.

The center of the room slowly cleared as the children musicians hurried away along with the other entertainers, servants moving even as some warriors chose to stay as they were to get a close view of the fight. Cohollo was indeed quite old, perhaps the oldest warrior in the room yet he was clearly very strong and very confident. Aegon though taller than he had been a year ago was puny in comparison, and certainly not confident with a blade.

"_Lajat_." Drogo growled as he stepped back with Daenerys, sitting down on a bench as Cohollo charged forward. Aegon needed no translation to know he needed to fight. As he moved forward, the Targaryen couldn't help but wonder how he would face a curved sword. Soon enough, he found out. As he swung, Cohollo caught his blade with his and turned his arm to disarm Aegon as he tried to punch him. Aegon pulled back and freed his sword as he watched the bloodrider who had far more experience than he did, and a great deal more strength.

Women and servants scurried away and the warriors were cheering Cohollo on. Drogo laughed each time Aegon was pushed back and Cohollo pursued. Daenerys didn't look away as she held her hands clenched in her lap while she sat beside her lord husband. Rhaenys however couldn't bear to watch, often glancing away each time the two blades came into contact and sung loud. The two were starting to sweat, it was already hot within Drogo's manse but the battle was making everyone feel the heat as tensions rose.

"_Khal yalli_." Cohollo spat. _Boy-king_. Aegon didn't understand but he knew it was insulting.

"_Lobir hauser_." Aegon hissed back. _Horse fucker_ he called him, though of course the bloodrider only smirked even if he didn't understand Valyrian. The two charged again and blades met, this time Cohollo had Aegon's sword wedged just at the right angle, the blade pointing up with the arakh holding it in place as he pushed the king's arms downward to prevent him from pulling away. The Dothraki tried to punch Aegon again but he leaned back and could only be grazed in the face, though the Targaryen was visibly becoming worn down. Soon enough, Aegon lost his footing.

Cohollo laid dead, the Dragonlord's sword speared through his head from under his chin right into the depths of his skull.

When Aegon fell, the arakh gave the sword its angle and the blade pushed up as Aegon's arm extended in reaction, digging into the Dothraki's neck and sliced up into his brain. Blood flowed freely onto Aegon's arm as he sat on the stone floor while Cohollo choked out his last few breaths. And then he was gone as his body fell over to the side with the sword still in him. Overconfidence and a lot of luck on Aegon's side had the Dothraki meet his doom.

This was the first living man he killed with his own hand. The Dothraki made no cry of pain and even as he died there had been no fear in his eyes. Unlike Viserys when the flames took him, Aegon would never forget his uncle's eyes even if he lived eternally. A haunted madman who wanted to scream for help through his agony, dropping the dragon egg which shattered. The stone egg proved to be as false as Viersys was, but Aegon could no longer hate him for it. Dragons were fire made flesh, and fire was power that was lusted for as both Targaryens had. It may have been different if the fires had taken Aegon and spared Viserys, yet it would never be so. Fire cannot harm the Dragon.

"_Maian krazaaji_..." _Mother of Mountains_. Drogo muttered as he descended the dais, leaving his wife behind as he approached the dead Cohollo and the shaken Aegon. Kneeling down, he did the unspeakable and pulled the sword from his rider's head and tossed it aside along with the arakh, lifting the man up to cradle. Dothraki never touched a dead man they did not kill. For Drogo though, he was saying a goodbye to an old friend and ally who had served him well since he had been a boy.

_"__Ko-Cohollo adothrae kimi mae ajjalan she __Rhaeshi Ajjalani._" _Cohollo will ride with his ancestors tonight in the Nightlands_. Drogo closed the warriors eyes before he reached for his dagger, causing Aegon to move back as the khal sliced off the long braid, tossing it at the king. "_Qorasokh ha __Khal Zhavorsa_." _Spoils for the Dragon King_.

The bells of Cohollo's braid jingled as they hit the ground, the silk hair still warm from resting on the warrior's sweaty back. Drogo stood and gestured for Pentoshi servants to take the body away from there as he watched Aegon. A part of his heart full of regret, a part full of admiration, but no anger. Cohollo fought like a true warrior, for Drogo and for his soon-to-be bride, the Stallion had granted this _Zhavorsa _victory for a reason. And so he nodded in approval before he reached down to help his brother-by-law up.

* * *

"A fiasco." Illyrion threw his arms up as he walked out into the sunlight on the marble staircase entering into his central courtyard. The Dornish lord turned his head to glance at the fat man.

"Fiasco?" Oberyn asked.

"A mess, a chaotic mess." Illyrio said with a slight hiss.

"Rhaenys..." Illyrio dismissed the Red Viper's worry.

"Safe. As safe can be." Illyrio sighed as he stepped beside the Dornish, looking out at his great pond with the small yellow flowers swaying with the gentle ripples. "King Aegon has secured at least his sister's freedom. One of them anyways..."

"One of...?"

"It seems he would name Daenerys his own blood, to say they shared a womb. To what end he hopes to reach, I cannot say, I do not think like a king." Illyrio hummed.

"Perhaps to protect her from Khal Drogo." Oberyn offered.

"Mm." Illyrio ignored him, not wanting to point out the king held no power that could possibly make Drogo fear the foreigner. Perhaps in time when the dragons were grown. "His Grace makes it a point still to blame you for the incident, as well as the Kingsguard."

"The princesses are of their own will." He shrugged, having no desire to explain himself to the magister.

"They are mere girls. One like a summer bloom, the other like dragonglass."

"Will the king return soon?" Oberyn asked, glazing over the minor insult about his sister-by-law and niece.

"Arrangements are being made for a funeral and a wedding, though I'm certain the king will return shortly."

"Then I shall go wait for him." Oberyn turned without another word and brushed by Illyrio. The fat man raised a brow as he watched the Dornish man leave.

'_What have I gotten myself into..._' The magister shook his head and sighed.

Rhaegal let out a small roar, the others joining in. It was a song of dragons as they rode on their Father's up from where he was waiting against a large pillar, Oberyn's expression was mostly unchanged. Staying behind had been difficult, knowing that his nephew might not have returned. He was glad to see him alive and well, yet still unsure how to deal with the king's displeasure.

Though he did take the blame, he couldn't help but compare the two siblings. Rhaenys' determination to bring back her brother was met equally by Aegon's stubborn to not believe that his family would willingly endanger themselves for his sake. And there they were, as strong as ever and still standing proud regardless of being so far from home with such a long road ahead. _Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken._ The princess and the king both had just as much of Dorne in them as they did of Valyria.

Even when faced with the mutiny, Rhaenys did not hesitate as she killed many sailors all on her own and secured the dragons before the traitors could even think to snatch them. She was quick that one, quicker than any of them. Daenerys could do little during the fight, but she did rally Barristan Selmy and Jaime Lannister immediately. Though it was perhaps too little too late for Aegon. Oberyn cringed as he called back the memory.

He had just speared the former captain Seawood through the belly and took down two other sailors, leaving more than half the crew now dead, and desperate. From atop the upper-deck, Oberyn only got a glimpse of the sailors pulling Aegon to the side and throwing him overboard. The Red Viper had been so sure that he lost his nephew that day between the mutiny and the coming storm. When news came that Aegon was in Tyrosh, supposedly as a royal hostage, he went and alone he wept profoundly. He could never face Elia ever again, knowing that he had allowed his family to die on his watch. Nor would he ever forgive himself.

Yet still, he managed to fail his family. Aegon said it was so and Oberyn knew it to be true, he didn't deny it. Danerys and Rhaenys had jumped at the idea when Illyrio told them of Khal Drogo's _khalisar_, and that Aegon could be rescued. The fat man had played the Viper and the Targaryen princesses, and he let it happen. Oberyn held no trust thereafter for the man who wore so many rings and eyed the three dragons.

"Welcome back." Oberyn said as he walked to meet them. Aegon looked up at his uncle, dressed in fine linen and silk, far more prim and well-placed than he had been on the Gallant Dragon in his rags. From atop one of the long balconies of the manse, the golden-robed Illyrio watched them.

Aegon looked half-drained from the experience, Oberyn could only fathom what happened. Though the king's bloody arm and chest, along with the clenched Dothraki braid in his hand was a pretty good indication. The small bells jingling ever so faintly, hymning the bitter-sweet tune of the king's victory.

"Daenerys is beyond our grasp. Unless we want to kill everyone in the horde." Aegon said with a sting.

"At least sweet Rhae is with us." Oberyn smiled faintly as he looked to his niece before he began to walk with the group alongside Ser Barristan and just behind Aegon.

"At a cost however." Ser Barristan reported as he walked with the Red Viper.

"Cost?"

"It's not a huge cost." Jaime said matter-of-factly. "Targaryens have wed each other for centuries."

"Wed?" Oberyn frowned as he looked ahead to Aegon who didn't bother glancing back at his uncle, though Rhaenys did, and he finally noticed she seemed melancholic. The silence weighed heavy on them, and all of them felt Oberyn's anxiety to hear of the news that Aegon was withholding. Finally the king stopped and turned so he would not face Oberyn, and looked to his Kingsguard.

"Ser Barristan, Ser Jaime. Go in without us." Aegon extended his arm to them, the dragons scurrying along it as their Father gave a slight whistle.

"As you command, my king." Jaime bowed his head as he held out an arm, Balerion running across it to perch on the Kingsguard's shoulder.

"Your Grace." Ser Barristan as well bowed his head as Viserion and Rhaegal stood on his left shoulder, the knight visibly uncomfortable but yet remained diligent. The pair walked around and headed towards the manse's front doors, with all three dragons looking behind at Aegon. Balerion let out a low growling sort-of whine.

"Aegon, what is... Your Grace, what cost is it you paid to have your sister freed?" Oberyn asked, looking to Rhaenys and then to Aegon.

"Rhaenys and I are to marry on the morrow. She is to be my bride." The king spoke flatly, reaching over to take his sister by the hand. He squeezed it gently, trying to reassure her, but it was no use. For either of them.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: So Daenerys and Drogo were married after all. A Targaryen princess sold away in exchange for an army, sounds familiar. I know many might be unhappy with the Dany/Drogy pairing, but I have an incredibly special place in my heart for those two. No reading of a couple's wedding had ever touched me in such a bizarre way. Though was there someone else that Daenerys should have ended up with do you think?

There's also Rhae... after Rhaegar made an effort to not have his children marry each other, in the end they must, if Rhaenys is to be granted her freedom from the Dothraki. Though perhaps Rhaenys might have been more suited to be Drogo's wife, feisty and strong... at least on the surface. Of course, Aegon will now follow the horde to safeguard Daenerys, so will his reaction to their culture be like Viserys' or Daenerys'? And when will Aegon decide to either take Daenerys back or leave her with her husband to return to Westeros? Time will tell!

_**Review Response**_: To ardleighstreet, thanks for the review! I actually would LOVE a whiteboard, though for the moment I don't have the space for one. For larger projects I use sticky notes on the bare wall in my office with different colors for different purposes (blue for main plot, yellow for character interaction, etc), but for this fic I actually just use a notepad to jot down ideas and story-planning. It's hardly superior, though thank you, but I'm one of the lesser authors on this site ;)

_**Review Response #2**_: To Guest, thanks for the review! Sadly I don't see Daenerys and Stannis having an interaction, but certainly I think Cersei and her could have a scene which might really add some flavor that you're looking for. Also Viserys got a much quicker death than I would have liked, but I can't see Aegon having it in him to kill his own family directly. Sadly. I hope you like what's to come :)

_**Review Response #3**_: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks for the comments! I really wish I wasn't so ambitious, but Aegon has no character to him as it were. So he needs some developing in order to reach the level which I think will be suiting for him to be able to sit on the Iron Throne safely and have the ending I have in mind. Glad you'll be reading anyways :) Arya and Aegon have a lot to do.

_**Review Response #4**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the review! **Very** good question, though really no character in GoT is purely good though some are purely evil. Aegon has only the stories of his father and perhaps some Stark influence to help determine his morality. Though apparently he's still okay with torching an entire city just for the wrong-doings of one slaver group. It seems the angrier he gets, the madder he gets. Perhaps he will eventually be like Aerys or perhaps he'll be like Rhaegar in the end, it's a long road for him I think. His newfound perspective on slavery may or may not lead him to be like Dany in-canon, Daenerys was constantly around slaves and saw their mistreatment while being like one to her brother. So we'll see, but very good point! And I hope you enjoyed Aegon's recollection of Viserys' painful death.

_**Review Response #5**_ To Zireael07, thanks for the comment! Glad you liked it!

_**Review Response #6**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the comments! Dragons are hatched and with their daddy, and apparently uncle Jaime. Who would've thought dragons and the kingslayer would get along. The Kingsguard situation is left empty for now, and that will be amended when Jaime gets to speak with Aegon after things have settled down. I'm trying to slowly unravel what's happening, since Aegon too is in the dark about a lot. Much will be revealed! Though much we already know, just from a different source.

_**Review Response #7**_: To A Fan, thanks for the review! I'm glad you like the flashbacks, I try to work hard on them for your enjoyment :) Luckily for Aegon, Rhaenys and Daenerys were around so the dragons were ultimately safe in Pentos. Though if Ser Jorah hadn't gotten Aegon there when he did... would they have continued to be safe with Illyrio?

_**Review Response #8**_: To carlita290591, thanks for the review! 60-70 chapters will be long and tedious, but it'll be worth it if you enjoy it :) I hope to continue working hard so you get a good read!

_**Review Response #9**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks for the review! I'm glad that you're liking how the world building is going, I'm trying to add more meat on the bone while not distracting too much from the story. There is going to be more Tyrion chapters and Ned Stark does have a few chapters but it's up in the air how many exactly. Non-Game chapters will hopefully come, though many of them will focus on Aegon and Arya with some of Renly and company as well as Tyrion of course.

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	25. Chapter 24 - Free as a Wolf

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 24: Free as a Wolf**

The sea parted the two lands, splitting them far apart until barely either was in sight of the other. One was crowned with twisted iron spires that were melted, fused and bent into one another to create a dense forest of blades. The opposite shore held something much more splendid, a great manse with tall brick towers and walls surrounding a garden within that seemed far too perfect. It was quiet, with only the sound of the waves gently echoing.

A roar startled the soft sounds of the sea as a great black dragon perched on the largest of the brick towers and crushed part of the turret with its claws, maiming it as it roared out again across the waters. Its call was answered by another as among the iron wreckage, dancing between the spires and above them was a gleaming blade with white flames coming from the pommel that shaped into a dragon. It clasped the sword in its talons as it flew swiftly, dodging the forest of sharp iron while high above clouds rumbled and thunder sounded as lightning dances along the sea surface, causing it to ripple and then wave violently.

From one of the brick towers, the one that the black dragon seemed to guard, came a faceless child riding a white horse into the garden. He was naked save for a steel and ruby circlet around his head, slanted and hanging on one ear as it was far too large for him. His hands were tied together with black oiled hair with small bells braided along it, the boy was crying silently and his own hair was stained as red as blood with some hints of silver underneath.

And then he lifted his head, and stared straight at her with his blank expression.

* * *

Arya drew breath quickly as if she had held it for an age, sitting up quickly as she awoke. Her chest heave as her body remembered how to take in air, with her forehead cold with sweat that rolled down her face. There was a faint chill in the room, though the fire embers still burned quite brightly. Kicking off the heavy blankets, Arya curled up against her headboard as she wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her nightgown.

"_Aegon..._" It had to be him, there was no one else that it could be. Except she had no idea what the dream meant, if it had meant to mean anything at all. She sighed heavily to calm herself, it was only a dream after all. '_Another of him..._'

There was a firm knock at the door which startled her and brought her out of thought. She quickly grabbed the blankets and pulled them onto her while she glanced to the window, not having even noticed it was well past dawn.

"Come." Arya said as she cleared her throat, and in came Septa Mordane.

"Good morning Arya!" The septa rang out cheerfully. "By the Mother and her graces, you're looking well today."

"I feel better." Arya confirmed as the septa sat on her bed and felt her forehead and cheeks.

"Good, good then. We were so worried about you." She said softly and Arya tried to smile. The septa had been so much kinder since the incident. Arya could only fathom that the septa did in fact have some sense of guilt in her, somewhere.

"Now let's get you out of bed, your lordly father and mother will be breaking fast soon with the rest. You must be starving for a proper meal."

"I didn't need to be in bed for four days..." Arya reminded her with a grumble, though she did enjoy being able to eat in bed. With no one telling her to hold her spoon properly.

"You were ill Arya, the ill take to bed. It could have been much worse otherwise." The septa scolded firmly, and Arya gave a slight roll of her eyes as the phase of septaly kindness was over with. "Now come on, there's some happy news for you."

"News?" Arya glanced up at the septa as she got out of bed.

"Yes, the young Lady Mormont will be arriving within the week." The septa said with a chirp-like tone that made Arya cringe. Arya had rejected the idea, loudly. She didn't want a lady's maid regardless of what anyone thought. It was bad enough to have Septa Mordane push her around, she didn't need someone constantly watching her.

"I don't want a lady's maid." She protested, it was worth the try to her. The septa ignored her as she brushed the girl's hair and helped her get dressed.

"I don't want a lady's maid." Arya repeated and the septa sighed as she finished buttoning up the dress.

"There are many things in life that we don't want, my child, but somethings in life we get." The septa lightly patted Arya's cheek.

"I'm not a child!" Arya moved past the septa who put her hands on her hips to show her best displeased look.

"Arya! Don't be r- Arya!" The septa called and went after her as Arya left her room and ran down the hall. She moved quick to get away from the septa, skipping steps as she went down the stairs, though in doing so she nearly tripped over Bran.

"Watch it!" He called as he barely moved out of the way when she jumped down the last of the stairs. Arya just grinned at him as he made a face before giving her a light shove which she returned.

"Careful you two." Robb said as he came down the stairs behind them. "Arya, why is Septa Mordane in a panic?"

"She... She finally realized becoming a septa was a mistake?" Arya offered and Bran laughed, Robb gave a slight roll of his eyes and urged the two on, trying to hold back a smirk.

"Come on, fast doesn't break itself. It'll be good to have all the Starks at the table again." Robb said looking down the corridor that led to the Great Hall. It seemed like a distant memory, the shadow that appeared here as Melisandre escaped. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if the shadow was meant for any of them or the assassins that came for the king.

"Well look whose up." Ned said as he sat at the high table with Catelyn who got up and went over to Arya to hold her cheeks.

"Thank the gods my dear." Her mother said softly as she brushed the hair out of Arya's face before chauffeuring Arya to her seat before returning to her own place by her husband.

"I wasn't _very_ ill." Arya said as she scooted her chair forward and her father laughed a bit.

"Would you have preferred to come eat in the Great Hall then?" He asked with a grin and she returned it sheepishly.

"Oh Ned." Catelyn said looking to her husband, shaking her head slightly. "You _were_ ill Arya. If the next time you're sick and you want to gallop around out of bed, gods help my heart."

"I'll stay in bed the next time too..." Arya muttered glancing away, uncomfortable with her mother's overbearing reaction.

"Good." Catelyn said with great emphasis.

"Arya didn't need to be in bed." Sansa stated. "When I'm ill, if I'm able, I sit in the library and read."

"That's not what you should do." Catelyn looked at her daughters, Arya looking unsure if she wanted Sansa's support... or faint mockery.

"Alright." Sansa said with a high-horse tone which made Catelyn frown. "I just don't see why we need to make ourselves useless..."

"Sansa!" Catelyn said with her scolding voice. Sansa had become much more diligent in learning about managing the castle, but she did it almost obsessively.

"It's fine Cat." Ned pushed in to end the tense conversation.

"Ned..."

"It's fine." Ned gave a slight smile as he looked his wife in the eyes, then turned his head to glance at Sansa who looked down to her plate. His daughter had been so sad since the king left, heartbroken and miserable, often saying she would join the Silent Sisters to honor the great fallen heroes of their day.

"Well then Arya..." Catelyn Stark began as she glanced at her daughter. "The Lady Mormont will be arriving in a few days. Make sure to behave when she comes."

"I don't need a lady's maid, mother!" Arya protested.

"No of course _you_ don't." Sansa muttered and Arya glared right at her.

"What did you say?" Arya hissed and Sansa looked right at her from the other side of Rickon.

"I said of course _you_ don't need a lady's maid." Sansa said flatly.

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means that you-"

"Sansa! Arya!" Catelyn scolded the pair together now. "Not at the table of all places. Arya, you're of an age when you must have a maid to tend to you. You're becoming a lady and you are of the highborn, it is not a choice."

"But mother..." Arya began as the main doors of the Great Hall opened and Ser Jon Connington came in with Snow. Arya smiled at her brother but he didn't return it, there were circles under his eyes and he walked almost sluggishly behind his mentor. The knight looked all the worse.

"Ser Connington, good morning. This is unexpected." Ned Stark said as he watched the knight approach.

"Were it only a good morning. Forgive the intrusion Lord Stark... I have some ill news." Connington frowned.

"I see. If it can wait for an hour ser-"

"It can't wait my lord. It can't wait."

"What is it then?" Ned asked as he braced himself then realized that it wasn't best to talk of this in front of his family. "Perhaps we should speak in private of this matter."

"Thank you my lord." The knight glanced back to Jon and nodded. "Stay here."

Snow nodded tiredly as his mentor and father left the hall, standing there as he struggled to keep himself from stumbling over. He glanced up at Arya who looked worried about what was going on, then his eyes met with Catelyn Stark's.

"Snow." The Lady Stark said after a moment. "...Sit, I won't have you collapsing in my husband's hall."

"Thank you... my lady." Jon Snow didn't have the energy to argue as he sat on one of the benches and looked up now at Robb and Bran.

"Is it serious?" Robb asked.

"As serious as it could ever be." Jon replied grimly.

"Is it the king? Is it Aegon?" Bran asked with some panic in his voice.

"It is." Jon answered without much thought to it.

"Gods..." Robb muttered before glancing to Bran who looked even more upset than the rest of them. The Starks sat in silence, Robb glancing down at the table as he wondered what was to come. Then he turned his head toward down the table to look at his sister. "Where's Arya?"

* * *

"...by raven this morning. Manderly confirmed the reports as did Lord Arryn." Connington said, walking next to Ned in the long corridor leading from the great hall, around the courtyard to the keep. Arya tiptoed as quietly as a cat as she lurked after them, disappointed to have missed most of the conversation, but she couldn't have anyone noticing her leave. Though she knew soon enough they would come after her.

"So that's what King's Landing will be talking about." Ned Stark sighed. "What will Queen Elia think..."

"The worst, I fear. I take no pleasure in causing that woman grief though we have our differences." Jon Connington replied.

"Differences?"

"I never thought she deserved Rhaegar, I know things were... difficult back then, but I do think that your sister, rest her soul, would have been a better match."

"That's a cruel thing to say, on many accounts." Ned said gruffly.

"Perhaps. I apologize then Lord Stark. Still, I would not wish to tell Elia Martell that her children are dead." Connington said in his defense. Arya's eyes went wide as she heard the words, trying to be sure that they were the real words and not a trick her mind played.

"The king is dead, the Baratheons won't waste time with the Great Sept bells ringing." Ned answered. Arya shook her head and stumbled onto her knee, though she kept quiet.

'_Aegon can't be dead. He can't be. No, it's a trick, a lie, something._' Arya's mind raced with a hundred-thousand thoughts and her eyes began to well up. She couldn't hear it anymore, the words stung like salt on an open wound. Turning heel, Arya left the corridor and made her way toward the courtyards, she had to get Needle, she had to find Nymeria, she had to get away from here.

"And the Baratheons will find themselves in the Seven Hells." Connington said as he crossed his arms, stopping to turn to Ned. "This ruse won't last for long, it'll be difficult to keep news of Aegon and his dragons at bay for long. I heard a rumor that he's heading east with a Dothraki horde, for what purpose I can't say."

"The Dothraki?" Ned asked, unable to hide his surprise. "What in the gods names is he doing with the hordes?"

"Only the gods know. Only Aegon knows. Perhaps he hopes to bring back an army. On the field of battle, no Baratheon knight will be able to withstand a Dothraki horselord."

"On the field of battle. Stannis is an expert at siege warfare, he'll hold up for years if he has to." Ned said, shaking his head. "He should have just returned to the North. The North would have served him."

"The Dragons do strange things, for their own reasons. Ultimately their decisions shape history as we know it." Connington replied as he smirked tiredly while Lord Stark gave him a queer look. "As we know all too well, my lord."

* * *

Arya nearly fell down the stairs as she hurried down them, stumbling onto her hands and knees in the dirt. She cursed quietly and got up, rain began to drizzle down lightly over the courtyard as she ran across it to the armory. If anyone saw her going in, she didn't care, she couldn't care. There was a numbness running through her that she didn't understand, she didn't even remember retrieving Needle and fastening the belt around her.

"Boy." A voice said from behind, it seemed someone did notice her entering the armory. Arya spun around, hand on Needle's hilt, though she did not know why. There were no enemies in Winterfell, but she felt afraid.

"Syrio..." She muttered, looking up at the Braavosi who crossed his arms, frowning down at her.

"What has you in such a fuss child? If I didn't know any better, I would say you saw the red god."

"Aegon... they said Aegon is dead." Her lip began to quiver and she tried to stop the tears but they just came.

"_They_ did? Do you believe he is dead?" Syrio asked, approaching her and kneeling down to be at her height.

"It doesn't matter if I believe it!" She hissed then looked down. "No... no I don't believe it."

"A false report, news from the enemy, there are a hundred reasons for you not to cry over this." He said holding a finger up, idly wagging it as he spoke. "Where did you hear about this?"

"I heard my father speaking with Ser Connington."

"Ah. You were eavesdropping, and you heard something that you shouldn't have." He said, Arya made a guilty face and the dancing master smiled. "I am sure the king lives, he might not be the brightest pupil I've taught, but he has good allies to keep him safe."

"Syrio..." Arya looked down again. Maybe she had heard wrong, or hadn't heard all there was to it.

"Do you still wish to run away child?" He asked, and she immediately nodded though for what reason, it was beyond her.

"Will you tell my father?" She asked, raising her eyes to look at him and he laughed.

"A master does not betray his student. If you must go, then go, but do not be away for too long. You have a family that loves you, that cares for you. Most do not have this. Never forget the gifts we have but overlook. That is the most difficult lesson in life to learn."

"A week, I won't be gone for more than a week." Arya promised him.

"Mm, acceptable. Then I will give you another lesson child, about surviving in the wild. Do not take it lightheartedly, or it will take you. And you would be missed, by your family and your dancing master."

"Syrio..." She smiled and hugged the dancing master. "Thank you."

"Ah, sentimentality." He chuckled and hugged her back.

* * *

The day was the longest day that Arya had ever lived, and the most exhausting. From how to catch rabbits and look for certain berries, to starting a fire and looking to the stars for direction, she learned so much in so short a time. Arya was afraid she might forget something, almost sure she would, but Syrio was ever-patient during these lessons. By evening, Arya had a pack full of dried foods and a few supplies to keep her alive in the wild.

Needle at her side, pack on her back and her legs straddling Nymeria. It felt strange to mount the direwolf, Arya thought it would be like riding a horse. The direwolf was broader with hard muscles that flexed with every movement, Arya felt strangely powerful riding Nymeria. And she would need that confidence now, facing the north gate. There was only a few guards, and they wouldn't have time to stop her, but she knew they would tell her father.

Arya felt crazed to want to do this, felt maybe she didn't need to do this now that she knew Aegon was likely still alive. Yet now, it was as if she let something out of its cage and it wouldn't return until it had hunted, like a wolf chasing its prey. Arya wanted to taste freedom, to be away from the lady's life for just a short while. She was not Sansa, she was not a tamed, groomed wolf.

The sound of the dinner bell broke Arya's thoughts, and she knew she was out of time. Lightly gripping Nymeria's neck-fur, she held onto the direwolf with her legs. Arya said nothing nor made a gesture to move Nymeria forward, but somehow the wolf knew. The direwolf growled and charged forward at full-speed, each step was a loud thud as the dirt was imprinted with a great paw mark. Reaching the gate, the guards had no time to react as the direwolf sped by, quicker than any horse.

Arya took a breath, not realizing that she had been holding it. Nymeria lifted her head as she ran, howling up to the dark cloudy sky. Arya grinned and was tempted to join her, but she settled for enjoying the cool wind in her face, her thick cloak flapping around as Nymeria pressed on effortlessly. Finally Arya dared to glance back, Winterfell was getting smaller and smaller, and she knew likely that her father had been told by now. One week, just one week of freedom and she would return and play lady. Just for one week though, she would be a wolf.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: I must be the slowest updater ever. I decided to bring Syrio back for a short-part because he's been in the background far too much, and I think he understands Arya's mindset more than he's ever really been given credit for. So it seemed suiting that he would be the one to give her some direction in her self-inflicted chaos. There was some serious writer's block with this chapter, but I couldn't gloss over it since it was so important for Arya to finally begin her journey of self-exploration. Hopefully it turned out well.

_**Review Response**_: To Darksnider05, thanks for the comment! Sorry things have become confusing, I hope as time goes on it clears up a bit!

_**Review Response #2**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the review! I don't think Aegon is at all aware how Illyrio pulled strings, he blames Oberyn almost fully. Though having Illyrio speared by Oberyn does sound tempting... but I'm sure Aegon will be furious if Oberyn ever tells him the truth. At least with the Dothraki, I can't imagine Aegon screwing it up as bad as Viserys, though Viserys was very anxious to get an army, Aegon is anxious to see Daenerys safe. Though to what end will be follow her?

_**Review Response #3**_: To Zireael07, thanks for the comment! Glad you liked the pairing :) And as long as Daenerys doesn't find a witch or Drogo doesn't die prematurely, then likely there'll be a little Rhaego.

_**Review Response #4**_: To Darth Kiryan, thanks for the review! I actually think Rhaenys would be more suiting as a Dothraki bride, though perhaps I see more of her personality because well... I write her. And that's exactly the point here, predestined paradoxes happen, even if circumstances are different.

_**Review Response #5**_: To Guests, thanks for the comment! I'm aware many people hate the pairing, though I would love to know who you would've preferred Daenerys to be with instead!

_**Review Response #6**_: To Guest, thanks for the review! As far as the development going on last chapter, the main purpose was to delay Aegon's storyline so that others might have a chance to grow. And he doesn't know for sure that three of the kingdoms are on his side, the North for sure, the Riverlands perhaps (since he some relations with Edmure Tully) but Jon Arryn rebelled once (though for a good reason). Aegon does wish to return as early as possible regardless as he told Illyrio that he doesn't need anymore strength. As for Aegon being in Pentos, Illyrio probably fed them the information and was the one who convinced them that a Dothraki marriage would secure Aegon's freedom as a 'royal hostage' that was being potentially sold to his enemies in Westeros. As for Aegon marrying both Dany and Rhae, I'm guessing he probably regrets deeply for not doing so since now Daenerys is with Drogo. A strange storyline in exchange for better development with the other characters and a grander plot (I think).

_**Review Response #7**_: To A Fan, thanks for the review! Thank you so very much, I appreciate that a lot :) My writing is mediocre for the moment however, but I am pleased to see I'm gradually making improvement (and more complex mistakes, but that's half the fun!). Sansa, I have absolutely no idea what to do with that girl. She does deserve some sort of happy ending, but I'm undecided what to do with her. Bran however does have something in store for him which I've yet to decide how it'll unfold :)

_**Review Response #8**_: To A Fan, thanks for the comment! Ned Stark chapters are coming for sure, I'll see if I can work out a few extra ones :)

_**Review Response #9**_: To Guest, thanks for the comment! Trust me, if Aegon threw off his robe and told Rhaenys to get on the bed... she'd probably die of laughter. I really do not see Aegon and Rhaenys having any sort of bedroom relationship of any kind. For one Aegon doesn't know anything about girls, and Rhaenys... well... I doubt highly she's attracted to her brother. So we're safe :D

_**Review Response #10**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the review! Well Aegon said he would marry her to keep her from a Dothraki husband, since Khal Drogo wasn't willing to simply release her of her own doing. Arya is most likely... not going to like it, I would think she'd kick Aegon in the groin... I actually think she would. As for the other characters, except Melisandre who will come much later, you'll see :D And the dragons, I really wanted to give a new perspective of them, to show that they're not the same dragons that Daenerys had received. Similar names of course, but the point was to show that dragons are certainly not dead in the world, just waiting to be awaken. Out of all those eggs, only three hatched, but perhaps that's only because Viserys' life was exchanged for them. Had more lives been exchanged, would more eggs hatch? If Dany or Rhae had been there, would more have hatched as well? It's impossible to say concerning that.

_**Review Response #11**_: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks for the review! That's haaardly pigheaded, since as you said there is a long way to go and Targaryens only took wives under the Old Valyrian faith. Though that's not to say Aegon wouldn't or couldn't. I can't see Rhaenys reacting positively to a sexual relationship with Aegon... I can see her laughing hysterically at the idea though. No certainly Aegon and Rhaenys are not at all close siblings, they're certainly not about to start now in the bedroom of all places. If they did have them, their children might be not be quite so messed up since Rhaegar married a non-Targaryen, so the inbreeding is lessened... a little bit, slightly.

_**Review Response #12**_: To Guest, thanks for the review! That's a very good point, though I don't think Aegon and Rhaenys will actually consummate their marriage, it's more of for-show thing. Though it does bring up a very good point, what if Aegon has no children of his own? The throne would pass to Rhaenys and her children, but since she's bound by marriage to Aegon who will give her no children, then would it go to Daenerys and her children? A Dothraki _khalakka_ (prince) sitting on the Iron Throne... likely would not be very well received.

_**Review Response #13**_: To Hat O' Doom, thanks for the comment! And thank you for saying so, glad you like it :)

_**Review Response #14**_: To Guest, thanks for the review! I actually think that's the appeal of Arya/Aegon is that Lyanna and Rhaegar had such a strong romance (or lusting, or raping, all depending how you view it) that they were willing to start a war over it. Yet in the end, there love was so brief that there was no chance to appreciate that. And Aegon, well at this point I don't think Aegon wants to marry anyone. He doesn't understand love, or really marriage likely, or even girls. Aegon's a very awkward teen and he's not ready to marry, perhaps that's his appeal with Arya, knowing he'd have to wait several years to marry her. Though I suppose now he's married his sister... making him ten times as awkward as before.

_**Review Response #15**_: To Master of the RedSand, thanks for the comment! A _bit_ of a prick I think underrates just how out of control Aegon is becoming. Every time he's in a situation that he can't handle, he starts to get angry and acts arbitrarily. That again goes back to him not having any experience doing.. well, anything. And glad you liked Oberyn! He's a hardcore family man, but he's still so wicked and cool.

_**Review Response #16**_: To meep, thanks for the comment! I try so hard to, but as you can see... nope, I sadly do not.

_**Review Response #17**_: To flo, thanks for the comment! Apparently not, though I try to get updates in as soon as I'm able.

_**Review Response #18**_: To Frenchie884, thanks for the review! I'm happy to hear you're enjoying it! I will do my best to push some focus onto the bad guys, I'll keep that in mind :) And the dragons are with Aegon, and Cersei well... everyone wants Cersei dead, but she has to die reasonably. Reasonably as in suddenly combusting into flame and falling onto a sword then gets crushed by a dragon skull. That would be so awesome.

_**Review Response #19**_: To leahjoker, thanks for the comment! I absolutely agree that if the rebellion had happened (or had failed much worse than it did in this fic) then Daenerys and Aegon would have been married. However with Aerys dead, that left Rhaegar to decide to future of the Targaryen dynasty. From his standpoint, he has a successful non-Targaryen marriage (in that it produced an heir) and he fell in love with someone who was as well not a Targaryen. So I thought it'd be appropriate that Aegon not marry into the family, though before the death of Viserys, there was a moderately high chance that Daenerys and Viserys would marry. I hope that helps :D

_**Review Response #20**_: To Lupinara, thanks for the review! Thank you so much! I'm glad you like it, happy to have another reader to come on the journey with me :) Since Arya has less of an obsession with death and has no contact with the faceless man, likely not, but she will be going on a journey as you can tell. Sansa will... I've no idea what Sansa will be doing, she's up in the air still. Aegon and Rhaenys will marry in ceremony-only, I'm sure she would never allow it to be consummated even if Aegon desired to. And between the two, Rhaenys is a far better swordswoman. I can imagine Rhaenys doesn't even want to be in Essos or married, if and when she returns, likely she'll be much more appreciative of her ability to choose a husband.

_**Review Response #21**_: To , thanks for the review! I'm happy to hear you think so, I've always thought I've gone a bit too-quick paced though and glossed over details. I have to disagree though and say that love is a primary force that drives Westeros. Tywin's widowing made him the man he is because he was so in love with his late wife, and if she had not died or potentially not been held so close to Tywin as she had been, then Jaime and Cersei would be married to Dorne. On that note, the love between Jaime and Cersei undermined Robert's lineage to the point of it causing a civil war. And with civil wars, the love Rhaegar (and Robert) had for Lyanna sent thousands to their graves in a war that ultimately ended the Targaryen regime. Finally, the love that Daenerys has for Drogo near the end causes her to irrationally sanction blood magic that would 'save' his life, and by doing so kills the unborn Targaryen heir as well as leaving her supposedly infertile. Or so I like to think :)

_**Review Response #22**_: To LionandtheFox, thanks for the review! That made me laugh quite hard, I'm happy that you're enjoying the story so much. Well there's so much to come, there may or may not be a Stark-Targaryen wedding, but Aegon (and now Arya) have their own journeys to go on. It's not a wedding, but it's something.

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	26. Chapter 25 - The Wise Dragon

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 25: The Wise Dragon**

"Mmm... so it's true." Mormont said huskily as the wind howled outside. The Lord Commander looked up at Benjen Stark and held out the letter to him. "Gods be good, new and old. The king is dead, sunk at sea off the coast of Essos."

"Who confirmed it?" Ben asked, taking the letter and reading it over. Years of being First Ranger taught him to be suspicious of all things, in the snowy fields beyond the Wall and in the summer fields of the south. It was signed with the Baratheon stag-seal, that certainly was evidence enough for some, but strange that the one who benefited most from the king's death would be the one to announce it.

"Baratheon spies no doubt, Lannister too I'll bet. Those damned southron are starting another war amongst each other." Mormont grumbled loudly.

"Can we trust such a letter?" Benjen asked.

"It's not our place to decide that. It's simply news." Mormont frowned. "Damned news."

"Should we tell Maester Aemon?"

"I'm not sure." Mormont sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "It would crush him, but we've no right to keep this from him... Give it to his steward, the Tarly boy. Let him tell the maester, perhaps he can soften the blow."

* * *

Samwell read the letter for the thirteenth time as he sat there, just inside the library. The candle flames were flickering almost impatiently as if they too wanted to hear of the news as all of Castle Black whispered. Rumors were never covered up, they were skewed, changed or absorbed by something completely different. For Sam however, all the truth was in the words he read.

_'Aegon, Sixth of his Name has been killed by a raging storm near Pentos. Nothing remains of his ship or of his crew. Gods rest his soul, the king is dead. In sight of gods and men, by all laws does Lord Stannis of House Baratheon claim succession to the Iron Throne. He and his descendants shall forever guard it and reign over the Seven Kingdoms.' _He thought out each word, saying it in his mind as his lips moved silently. Were there a voice, it might stuttered or shake.

The young Tarly shook his head and re-read it once again. It had now been more than three months since the king had been at the Wall, where he witnessed the dead walk and the king creating fire from thin air. A hundred things he never thought possible, some hoped were possible while others he only thought to be nightmares, he saw them happen right in front of him. And the king, Aegon had been so patient and kind with Samwell even as he made a fool of himself. He could not believe that the king was dead, yet the words on the scroll said it to be so.

His eyes gazed over each curve of the letters, perhaps looking to find some hidden message. A secret of the king's salvation to be found, but sadly there was none. Less than halfway through the letter,a soft icy wind entered as the door opened and Maester Aemon came in. The old man stood there, listening quietly as he shut the door quietly behind him.

"Samwell Tarly?" He asked searchingly.

"I'm here maester." Samwell got up and went over to the maester as the blind man made his way across the library and took a seat. The same seat he always took, the same as when Aegon had been in this very room.

"Water Samwell, please."

"Of course sir." Samwell answered before he hurried to fetch a goblet and the pitcher of water, pouring some for the maester before setting it down on the table. "There was a... a letter. Arrived by raven only an hour ago."

"A raven? From whom?"

"From the south, from Stannis Baratheon... it said... it said..."

"That Aegon was dead?" The maester asked, taking the goblet and drinking from it slowly.

"W- you knew? Oh gods I waited too long, I'm sorry Maester Aemon. I was supposed to tell you but-"

"That's enough Samwell." Aemon said quietly as he put the goblet down. "You're at no fault. News like that spreads like wildfire, and all the Watch speaks of it in not-so hushed tones."

"I'm so sorry for your loss maester, the king was a good man."

"My loss?" Aemon asked and grinned a bit. "You're assuming boy that my great-nephew is actually dead."

"What do you... but the letter, there's confirmed reports that he's-"

"Whose reports? Traitors? Plotters? The king is dead from wilding attacks in the North, the king is dead at Dragonstone from an eruption, the king died at sea after a great storm. Hah. Let their tongues waggle like vicious wild beasts as they hunger for more and more until they consume each other." Aemon laughed softly. "Aegon is hardly dead. The son of the Bard King would not die so easily."

"The king... isn't dead...?" Samwell moved to a seat and sat down, watching the maester. The truth he had found in the letter became so hazed and unstable now as he listened to Aemon. Perhaps he was too naïve, too quick to believe the words of a distant lord who was meddling in matters of the realm. Playing the game of thrones.

"King Rhaegar, rest his soul, sent me lengthy letters from time to time before and during his reign. He spoke highly of Aegon even when the king was only a small child, and the Bard King was certain that his son would lead the realm into a new age never before seen." Aemon nodded slowly as he spoke, reaffirming Rhaegar's words to him. "I believe him, even still, perhaps I am grasping at a false hope. Yet I cannot help but dream of things that I have never seen, dream of a time I will never know, dream of something I cannot understand."

"Have you... dreamed of the king, maester?" Samwell asked curiously, the Targaryen dragon dreams interested him greatly. Most especially ever since he learned that Maester Aemon and King Aegon both dreamed them.

"I have. I have seen him as a newborn, as a mischievous child, as a young man sailing the seas, and as a conqueror standing atop a pile of scorched corpses." The maester answered. "I have also seen him in my dreams, facing winter itself."

"Is that how you know he's alive?" Samwell asked excitedly but hushed himself as Aemon turned his head towards the steward.

"I know that Aegon is far, and will not return for some time. The gods are indeed cruel, so very cruel. To wait until I was old and brittle to test my nephew." The maester said with a tone of deep despair. "When I can no longer move without pains or wield any weapon other than the quill. Yet my mind is sharper than any blade while my body is worn. The gods are indeed very cruel. Gods save the king, and his knights. I so wish I could be with him, to aid him."

"Maester... I... he has the Kingsguard with him, he'll be well protected." Samwell tried to reassure him. "If Aegon is alive then... then Stannis can't be king. He can't sit on the Iron Throne... It's just a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding? Oh I miss the days of youth when all that existed was summer thoughts." Aemon shook his head. "I have grown bitter and cold like winter. And I know that it is Stannis Baratheon that hunts Aegon. Another Stag daring to rear itself at the Dragon."

"I..." Samwell began but stopped, not sure what he could say.

"Had Rhaegar lived longer, perhaps this could have been avoided." Aemon folded his hands, resting them on the table. "The Baratheons, a menace to House Targaryen if there ever was one. Especially the Strong Stag."

"Robert Baratheon." Samwell nodded, not a soul in Westeros hadn't heard of the story of Rhaegar slaying the Stag at the Battle of the Trident. His sword pierced through Robert's gold plates and iron chain-mail, stealing away his life within a moment. A moment too late for Rhaegar as he took a blow from the Stag that would later inflame and pus, and ultimately take the Bard King's life.

"Do you know why he's called the _Strong_ Stag even by his enemies, especially by his enemies? Most especially by Targaryen loyalists?" Aemon asked, grinning a bit. He still took some joy in knowing how the Targaryens always seemed to triumph, somehow.

"I... well... he was very strong, supposedly he carried a great war-hammer that no other man could lift. They say that he was undefeated before Rhaegar slew him, that no one could stand before him and live."

"Exactly!" Aemon said. "Rhaegar destroyed the strongest man in all of Westeros, no one can stand before the Dragon and live. Not even the Strong Stag."

"And now his brother is seeking revenge..."

"Yes." Aemon became grim again. "Stannis Baratheon has likely harbored a hate, not for killing his brother but for shaming his House. They are undeserving of mercy, Rhaegar was too kind... but that made him loved."

"W... what will happen to Queen Elia?"

"Mm. I dare not think of what will become of her. I never met the woman but I am told she has a tender heart and a sharp tongue. Gods give her strength when she hears the lies about her children." Aemon sighed loudly as if defeated, but soon his tone changed to one more determined. "I have no weapons, other than the quill. Samwell, I need you to take two letters."

"Letters? Yes maester!" Samwell practically stumbled from his seat as he made his way to the tall cabinet that held stacks of paper and a few bottles of ink with many quills to spare. He brought back several papers and a bottle along with two quills just to be safe.

"Who am I addressing the first letter to?"

"To the High Septon." Aemon said, Samwell stared for a second but forced himself to concentrate and begin writing the formal introduction. Though he sketched it out in short-hand, he would do a better draft afterward.

"I'm ready maester."

"Samwell, what goes into this letter stays between us. None of the Watch must know of the oath I am about to break. I should not turn to help my family when I have sworn myself to the Night."

"...Um... yes maester, of course." Samwell answered and readied his quill.

The ravens were sent, one to King's Landing, the other to Old Town so that the Citadel might know of their coming. Aemon had not traveled in so long, he felt a great worry though he did not show it. Samwell helped the man onto a horse before getting on one himself, it would be a long way to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and an even longer trip around Westeros by ship to the Reach. Aemon patted the horse lightly as he took the reigns, the fear was slowly leaving him as he filled his mind with thoughts of Rhaegar, of Aegon and what it meant to take this trip.

"You do not have to do this Samwell." Aemon reminded the steward once more. "I only need you for as far as Eastwatch."

"It would be an honor to go to the Citadel with you, maester. And I've never been to the Citadel, only seen it from afar." Samwell said and Aemon nodded.

"Very well, just know that you may be branded a great number of things should this turn sour." Aemon said.

"It won't maester, we will return soon enough... The Wall isn't going anywhere." Samwell answered, making the old man laugh a little.

* * *

_Addressed to the Holy Avatar of the Seven in their most graceful light,_

_I, Maester Aemon of the Night's Watch and of House Targaryen must bring your attention to the matter of royal succession and the issue concerning the alleged death of King Aegon, Sixth of His Name. All reports of the king's death have been invented, falsified, and manipulated so that Lord Paramount Stannis of House Baratheon might ascend to the Iron Throne. He and his descendants have no claim to the throne that Aegon the Conqueror forged, for they pull the strings of traitorous plot and now attempt to make Westeros bow._

_While I am no prince nor lord any longer, barely able to call myself a Targaryen, in absence of His Grace, I make a request of your Holiness. The Dragon remains crowned across the Narrow Sea, somewhere his banner still flies. Therefore, there is no excuse for the Holy Sept to accept any petition for the coronation of Lord Stannis or his descendants. The Stag is a traitor and a con, ill suited to wear a crown and lord over the kingdoms._

_I hope and pray your judgment will lead you to the same conclusion._

_Signed,_

_Maester Aemon Targaryen_

"That's sweet that the old dragon would be so concerned for his nephew's throne." Stannis said before he returned the letter to Cersei who tore it up and tossed it to the ground.

"Yes, and to think that the most holy man in all of Westeros... would so willingly go along with such a plot to betray the king. The true king." She said, shaking her head. Within the confines of the Great Sept, the new self-proclaimed king and queen stood before the High Septon with a great many guards in tow. The office of the High Septon was luxurious in many ways, displaying some lesser holy relics as the most sacred remained in their vaults deep beneath the Great Sept. Tapestries of Aegon parading into Old Town, great battles, and coronations hung on every wall between the white and gold drapes that displayed the seven-cornered star of the Faith.

"I have made no betrayals!" The High Septon snapped. "My loyalty is to the gods, for I am their servant and theirs alone!"

"Then you should obey your gods and crown me king." Stannis said coldly, his eyes angry and impatient.

"Never. Never would I dare break the sanctity of the coronation. The king yet lives, there is no proof of his death!" The High Septon said angrily. "Gods save your souls, I pray they will, truly I do."

"Will your gods save you though?" Cersei asked, smiling a bit which made the High Septon distress.

"How... how dare you threaten me! I should have you excommunicated if you continue in this, Lady Baratheon!" The holy man answered harshly, which made Stannis all the more irritated while Cersei seemed that much more happy with herself.

"Kill him." Stannis said as he turned with Cersei, she took his arm and they walked towards the doors of the Holy Office that connected to a corridor leading to the main halls of the sept.

"Wait now! You can't-" The High Septon cried out as a Baratheon sword pierced through his stomach. Another soon found its way into his chest as the guards slew him where he stood, and then the old man laid dead on the floor of his own offices. Several septons and septas heard and lurked away, those who were unlucky enough to witness the crime found themselves following the High Septon to the grave. Soon Baelor's Sept was filled with the echoing of screams and panic, the sound of swords, people running and guards cornering every shadow that moved.

"We should take care of Aemon Targaryen as well... I hate messy business." Stannis muttered as he listened to the bloody gargle of the High Septon just before the man died as the struggling within the sept began. Two guards opened the doors for their liege as ten followed them, the Stag and Lioness walking as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

"We have avoided messy business my love. Now a true man of the Faith can crown you." Cersei said smiling brightly, Stannis only made a low groan in response. "My dear I know what might ease your mind. I have a wine that will change the mood, it has a taste that's simply to die for."

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: Aemon I feel needed a bit more light, as he does play the role as perhaps the sole connection between Rhaegar and Aegon, since Rhaegar's closest companions are all dead. That in itself I think provides some detail to what is expected of Aegon, what everyone expects of Aegon even if they don't know of or even believe that he might be a so-called promised prince. I for one don't put much faith in the prophecies but there's a certain truth to them, that someone has to stand up to the darkness coming, but we don't know who that someone is. It's a shame really that Aemon tried to buy Aegon some time, but Stannis was already in King's Landing securing his throne, though apparently he won't ever get to sit on it. Please review! Or Cersei will take the Iron Throne for herself! :D

_**Review Response**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the review! I honestly think that Arya is the perfect super-spy sort of character, it's probably an amazement that Varys hasn't taken her under his wing. Well even if Ned was told by a reliable source that dragons had returned, I don't think he'd believe it personally. Though perhaps at some point, he'll see one. And Catelyn, I'm sure wears a wig at this point from raising Arya.

_**Review Response #2**_: To Lupinara, thanks for the comment! Glad you're liking it! :)

_**Review Response #3**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the review! Arya's always in a fit and Sansa can't help being Sansa. She will get over her issues someday I'm sure. Arya is only going out to the wilderness for a week's time, I doubt she'd find Aegon. And the Baratheons have made their move! A low one at that.

_**Review Response #4**_: To carlita290591, thanks for the comment! Yeah... if you've noticed, the dreaming is getting much more explicit and will continue to become less abstract.

_**Review Response #5**_: To LionandtheFox, thanks for the review! Thank you very much :) I try very hard to bend the characters in the same way as they are in the canon (such as presenting them with an event that shapes their personality). I feel like the small things shape Westeros, so many details change the destiny of so many in ASoIaF, so I really hope to convey that in the same manner.

_**Review Response #6**_: To flo, thanks for the review! I think Jon Connington has some insight into Aegon's behavior, but I think he sees Aegon more as Rhaegar than his own person. Aegon tends to need a strong-willed person around to keep him in line with his own life, such as Arya though Tyrion seemed to do well also. Aegon is (please no one kill me) in a way like Joffrey with how uncontrollable he can be. Anyways (*hides from assassination*), Jaime I believe has renewed faith in the gods and thus also his oaths to them, since his father has little respect for the gods, so too did his son. Jaime is going to have a serious conversation with Aegon, but imagine having to admit that your family wants your (potentially-insane) master dead... Though I hadn't thought of that, what if Renly reaches Aegon before Jaime could explain things? That would go over terribly, and you make an excellent point that Aegon may become like his grandfather, or like canon-Viserys... who actually was like Aerys anyways. As for the four nameless Kingsguard, Aegon can only believe that they lusted for the dragons on sight, but that seems a bit too simple, so who had been paying them that whole time to watch (and timely) kill Aegon? You have a lot of excellent insights to this :)

_**Review Response #7**_: To Anarra, thanks for the comment! Glad you think so :) Well considering there was the rumor that Robb Stark rode his direwolf into battle, and that Bran Stark noted that the direwolf (the mother found dead) was much larger than his pony, I think at least some people can. Full-sized adults perhaps could be ridden if the direwolf was in fact big enough (perhaps the males are larger), but for Arya it's simple I think. Hope that gives some insight!

_**Review Response #8**_: To A Fan, thanks for the review! Glad you enjoyed it! I'll tell you now that she only went to the wilderness and we don't really see any of it directly, but it will play a very important role in Arya's future. :)

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	27. Chapter 26 - Hear Me Roar

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 26: Hear Me Roar**

The heavy door unlocked with a loud clunk before opening, a guard wearing the Baratheon stag came in with a tray. A bowl of some sort of stew with a piece of bread on the side and a cup of diluted wine were on the tray, placed on the small table with two seats next to it just as it was every single day. The same mushy excuse for a meal and piss-wine, it was now expected though Tyrion had reluctantly accepted it with some slight graciousness. Only because he had access to any book he wanted were it in the library of Storm's End.

"M'lord." The guard nodded to the small man who glanced up from his tome. At the start of his imprisonment he never got a friendly word from his so-called protectors, or rather wardens. They only had insults and slurs to spit at him, but soon enough they said nothing at all. And now he got a m'lord here and there, and a few yes sir's for good measure. Tyrion felt like he was somehow moving up in the world. This cramped, bar-covered windowed room of a world.

Closing his book, Tyrion set it down and got up from his seat to go eat. It was all a ritual, a habit now for him. He of course sent a letter to his father telling him of his predicament, but the only reply he got was his father insisting he be a good guest for his sister. Apparently it's an insult if a Lannister is kept prisoner, as long as they're not someone you're related to. Cersei had read their father's reply and that was the last of his raven-sendings. Somehow Tyrion knew that their father was highly displeased with Cersei but the damage had been done and the Lion of Casterly Rock had to control the fire-spread.

Sitting at his table, Tyrion began to eat, trying not to think of what he was eating. He couldn't count how many horrid meals he had eaten, he didn't even dare count the days he had been stuck in this room. There had been no news of Aegon or at least none that he was permitted to hear, so Tyrion had nothing to fear as long as the stories of his death kept going. Somehow he felt he would know if Aegon was truly dead.

The Little Lion's mind recalled memories of Aegon and Rhaenys, then of Daenerys, then of Viserys. Aegon was at times crude and stubborn but generally a good lad, and like his sister Rhaenys was beautiful like their parents. Rhaenys was indeed something to behold: soft on the eyes, cruel on the ears. She was twice as stubborn as her younger brother, and far more aggressive but exceedingly clever. Tyrion liked her quite a bit, and then there was sweet Daenerys who was the kindest of the Targaryens. Yet somehow Tyrion knew she had a temper, perhaps the more horrific of them all. He knew a strong woman when he saw one. And then Viserys the hog, a snorting pile of dung said to have gotten himself burnt to a crisp. Tyrion wondered if he smelt of bacon when he died.

Shaking his head, Tyrion decided that he had enough of thinking about the Targaryens for one day. Anymore and he might start breathing fire the way they said Aegon did... then again, that would greatly improve his predicament. He could see it now: Tyrion the Imp who breaths fires and burns the legs of his enemies, forcing them to kneel before him. He blinked as he train of tyrannical thought stopped, looking down as crumbs tumbled onto the tray as be broke his tiny loaf of bread. Inside there was a small scroll stuffed in.

'_Gods be good and damned all at once._' Tyrion looked rather disappointed at he went over the tiny letter, instantly suspecting something was afoul. '_A plan to sneak out and escape Storm's End? Too good to be true. Oh whose thinking I'm a fool?_'

"Rude people." Tyrion muttered, tossing the scroll down onto the tray as he began to eat the bread, breaking off pieces with his stubby fingers. He began to think of jousting, and which men he would love to see fly off their horse and fall flat on their back. It made him smile a little.

Occasionally his eyes moved to the scroll, slightly crumpled and sitting there, judging him. Or perhaps he was judging himself for judging the scroll, which was in turn now judging- Tyrion shook his head lightly, he was in fact going mad in this place. Maybe he did need an escape plan, someone else's as none of his worked out. If he was able to leave Storm's End, all the better, if not then he had a chance to do something fun for once.

"I must be out of my mind..." Tyrion sighed quietly as he picked up the scroll.

_Lord Tyrion Lannister, it is due time to attain your freedom from Storm's End. Be ready for us tonight, carry nothing heavy. We will knock four times, knock back three if you are alone and willing to come with us. We will not return a second time._

"Bah..." Tyrion grumbled as he sunk into his chair a bit. '_Sounds more like a threat than an offer..._'

Whether desperate to escape or just to take his mind from the extreme boredom, Tyrion decided he would knock back three times. Though he felt like he had little choice and he knew the likelihood that this was a trap. Something conjured up by his sister to have an excuse to throw him into a deeper, darker cell, or worse. Again though, he had little choice.

The morning went by slowly and the afternoon lasted for two lifetimes it seemed as Tyrion waited. Unable to keep his mind occupied with his books or his notes, he felt like he was going to the executioner's block. The sun finally began to set and Tyrion made himself ready, as ready as he could anyways. And he continued to wait, sometimes holding his breath to listen, but never heard anything beyond the chatter of the guards and the usual patrols. He was beginning to think it was some sort of cruel, cruel joke. Night had come but his knights in shining armor had not.

Suddenly though, there was a loud grunt then a thud outside his door. Tyrion stayed in his chair, glancing up from his book as he cocked a brow. The locks came undone and the heavy door opened abruptly, but Tyrion still didn't move from his seat. He stared up at the two figures coming into his room, their faces covered and their swords at the ready with the blood of the guards on them.

"What happened to knocking?" Tyrion asked as he tilted his head curiously. Though a part of him feared these were assassins more than friends.

"No time m'lord." One said as the other went to the windows. "We've been discovered."

"You'll find that those are locked and barred solid. Trust me, I've tried to-" He stopped as he watched the man use a flat iron bar to break the stone where the bolts held the window bars in place.

"Hurry." The first man said as he shut the door, moving to push furniture in front of it.

"So let me get this straight... because you got caught, I'm now going to die." Tyrion said, he would have been amused if his life weren't at stake.

"Can you fly imp?" The second man asked as he threw the bars to the floor and opened the window. Tyrion looked at him queerly as he stood, flapping his arms.

"I can! I'm a winged little demon monkey that snatches little children from the air and gobbles them up before pissing on their horrified mothers." Tyrion grumbled.

"Good for you then." The second man said as he walked over to Tyrion and grabbed him.

"Wait... wait what are you- Waitwaitwaitwait!" Tyrion struggled as the man grabbed him and hurled him out the window. "Nooo!"

Tyrion would have wet his pants had he been given a decent amount of wine to drink, but instead he settled for shielding his face, not daring to look down. He knew it was a long fall, and he prayed it would be a quick death. He let out a silent shout as he hit something, but strangely enough, he sunk into it before being catapulted upward. Unsure if he was upside down or just twirling about in the air, Tyrion fell again.

"Gotcha!" Someone said as he was caught, tumbling to the ground with his savior. Tyrion looked around in a frantic, glancing upward as he watched the two men who came into his room slide down long ropes.

"Seven FUCKING Hells!" Tyrion swore as he wobbled onto his feet, looking now to the man who caught him. It was a man with dark hair and dark eyes, in the night he looked almost like a wolf. Fierce and rough around the edges.

"You alright little one?" The man scoffed.

"What is _wrong_ with you people!? That's no way to rescue someone!" Tyrion snapped.

"The lord said to get you out, he never said quite how to. We improvised."

"And who is this cunt of a lord? And who are you?" Tyrion asked, looking back as the two men jumped from their ropes and landed on a large tarp above that bounced them off towards Tyrion who moved briskly out of the way as the pair rolled.

"Lord gave no name. I'm Bronn. Them, they're scum. We're all scum." The man said as he pulled one of the others up to their feet. "And we'll all be dead scum if we don't leave. Now."

"No arguments from me _scum_." Tyrion said, making Bronn chuckle.

"Hurry then little lord." One of the scum said. Tyrion made no fuss as he was rushed along by the men through the courtyard. It was very strange that no alarm was raised and that there was no one around chasing them just yet. Much of the garrison was in King's Landing, yet three intruders rescuing a Lannister deserved an alarm at least.

As they hurried for the gates, Tyrion soon saw just why it was so quiet. Guards were pinned to the ground with spears through their necks. Men on the wall laid dead with their throats slit, and the gate portcullis was held up with a tree trunk. Tyrion had little time to admire their brutal tact of these three as he was heaved up onto a horse.

* * *

The rest of the escape was now a giant damned blur to Tyrion, barely now recalling how the two men broke into his room and tossed him from the window. All he could think of was how good the wind felt on his face as they rode full speed away from Storm's End as finally an alarm rang out and patrols were organized to be sent down King's Road. It was unfortunate for the Baratheon guard that they were not heading along the road, as Bronn led the way down a steep rocky path, were it a path at all.

Below was a large row boat, oars at the ready as it sat on the narrow coast where barely a foot could fit comfortably without being pressed against a rock or completely submerged in the sea water. Halfway down the path, the horses began to spook and they were forced to continue on foot. And to hurry as likely the Baratheon patrols would figure out that the King's Road was empty of their presence.

"I have to say, for a shit plan thought up by scum, this is working out well." Tyrion said as Bronn lifted him up into the row boat.

"You can thank the lord for coming up with the main idea of it all." Bronn answered as he and the other two got in the boat.

"What does this lord look like? Where did you meet with him? There must be something you can tell me."

"Oh there's plenty to tell you little lord. Large bald man from King's Landing who was very eager to have you freed. Paid us nicely too." Bronn said, one of the others chuckling a bit.

"And where will you take me now?" Tyrion asked as he leaned back as they rowed away from the shore slowly and carefully. Being taken by the tide and crashed onto the rocks was not what the escape needed.

"To the Vale of Arryn."

"No, I want to go to King's Landing." Tyrion said almost immediately. There was something about the Vale he didn't like. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about that place haunted him.

"You'll be strung up like dead cattle." Bronn shrugged. "We go to the Vale."

"Ever heard the phrase a Lannister always pays his debts?"

"I'd say you're already in our debt." Bronn said cheekily as he smirked.

"Imagine me being more in your debt." Tyrion said back to him. "Bring me to King's Landing and I will pay you ten fold what the large bald lord paid you."

The scum glanced at each other, and it didn't take much convincing. The night was long and Tyrion was constantly glancing around for any sign of ships flying the Baratheon Stag, but he saw nothing at all over the dark waters. Just before the sun began to peek over the horizon, it was decided that they would go to King's Landing. Tyrion might be imprisoned again or worse, but he knew that was where he had to go.

Aegon would one day return, Tyrion was still Hand of the King and he would not abandon his post. There was no telling what was to come, the tidal wave of uncertainty would wash Westeros clean, or completely destroy it. And Tyrion would not allow it to happen without a fight.

'_Hear Me Roar._' He thought to his family's words, and truly believed his roar could echo in the darkness and bring some sense to the chaos.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: Sorry for the delay, things have been hitting the fan and I've just had no time to write. Thanks for your patience! Anywho~ Bronn's back! Yay! I actually added him on a whim. My chapters seem to be slapped together a bit more than usual I find. Hopefully I can work more on them to make them more entertaining! Either way, so Tyrion's escaped yet has decided to return to King's Landing in the midst of the pretender-succession. Aegon is no where near his return home, and Tyrion seems vividly aware of this just as much as a few others. So who now is protector of the realm in the king's absence? Ned Stark is stalling, Edmund Tully and Jon Arryn are likely to do the same. Tywin will be taking advantage of this opportunity as will Mace Tyrell. Not to mention Doran Martell and Balon Greyjoy. Will civil war break out I wonder. Calling the banners too soon may be disastrous, calling them too late and Aegon may not have the strength he needs to retake the Iron Throne. Remember to review before Cersei crowns herself supreme empress of Westeros and Essos and more!

_**Review Response**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the review! I like Aemon a lot too, shame he has a rather despairing life at times. Well if Stannis does indeed become king, or if it ends up being Joffrey, chaos may not come right away. At least not until the new king gets out of hand.

_**Review Response #2**_: To The Black King, thanks for the review! Well if you know about RLJ, then might not be so odd for Rhaenys to be married to Aegon. Though their 'married' life will be coming up soon, it's not what you might be thinking.

_**Review Response #3**_: To Lupinara, thanks for the review! Well Cersei did say she loved Robert at first, I don't see why she couldn't love Stannis at first too. Though I suppose his cold-shoulder probably put a wedge between them, and she just kept up the act. Shireen is going to be a very huge factor (though with little appearance if any) in this story, as you'll come to see, so answers will come! And Joffrey is always going to be a prick, it's the madness more than the upbringing. As for Tywin, he's a political genius and skilled tactician, and despite having grown overly-confident in this AU, he's still very capable. However I'm sure Tywin would support his daughter's ambitions as well as his grandson's, so he'll likely be ditching the dragon banners. I have a special plan for Tywin though.

_**Review Response #4**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the review! I can't imagine just how angry the Seven Kingdoms would be at the death of the High Septon, but there's a small issue. The High Septon gives up his name to be the avatar of the gods, so his identity is a bit skewed. It might not be as easy as you think to destroy Baratheon support from the murder. I actually think Stannis or Joffrey taking the throne makes it a rockier return for Aegon, but it does put out in the open who is friend and who is foe at least.

_**Review Response #5**_: To Wolf's Honor, thanks for the comment! That... would be so intensely awesome. Sadly I personally don't think Ned is as rash as Robb, he won't go to war if he could delay it until Aegon's return. Though since Joffrey is likely going to be king, just how far would Ned be willing to let Joffrey go before the banners do get called to war?

_**Review Response #6**_: To Guest, thanks for the comment! Thank you very much! That's quite a compliment, I'm glad you're enjoying the story :) I hope it remains interesting!

_**Review Response #7**_: To Flo, thanks for the review! I think Aemon is an amazing, unappreciated character as well. He knows full well he should keep his nose out of it, but he does have the Dragon's blood so he's of course a little rash. The murder of the High Septon will cost them very dearly, but perhaps not immediately and not in the way you might think. That's a very good thought about Aegon, I actually never considered him to be self-aware, though with how things are laid out it does make quite a bit of sense. But does he want people around that counter his temper? Especially since now he's making a to-kill list with Stannis Baratheon, Doran Martell, and all of Tyrosh at the top. And Arya, she has green dreams yes, not in the same way that Bran does but her friendship (relationship?) with Aegon tends to link her dreams to him, as well as other things she cares about (perhaps she'll have wolf dreams).

_**Review Response #8**_: To MANDERS21, thanks for the comment! I'm happy to hear you're enjoying it, maybe Aegon and Arya will end up together, perhaps not. You'll have to wait and see!

_**Review Response #9**_: To carlita290591, thanks for the comment! Glad you enjoyed it :)

_**Review Response #10**_: To xxxBriar-Rosexxx, thanks for the comment! Thank you, happy to hear it!

_**Review Response #11**_: To A Fan, thanks for the review! I'm glad you liked it! Sometimes I'm decent with my updating, other times not so much... I try though I promise :)

_**Review Response #12**_: To TrillionSchiffer, thanks for the reviews! I'm sure many people heard Viserys, but just passed him off as a madman like his father. Though that seems so far away now, the game has changed so much since Viserys' ambitions. Well if Melisandre made sense, in-canon and in this AU, then that would be half the fun gone. She's mysterious but very determined to reach her goals at any cost. Was she really on Aegon's side? Is there something more to her actions? Answers will come, but very eventually. Though if it helps, Melisandre has fantastical chapter at one point dedicated to answering everything. Mostly. Renly is on Aegon's side, though of course he has to be all smiles to Stannis. Renly lost one brother to war and another to greed, he's not about to let the Seven Kingdoms tear themselves up in a civil war because of his House again. Though while he's chasing a goose, that's already happening apparently. Poor Renly.

_**Review Response #13**_: To Inquisitor Azreal, thanks for the reviews! I actually was hoping to be done by chapter 10, then chapter 20, then it kind of got out of hand... The alternate story of Aegon turned into the alternate Song of Ice and Fire where many of the gaps and lows of the original get redone. As for Aegon and Rhaenys, they have a chapter coming that explains their... marriage so while that might not give answers you're looking for, it will perhaps give you an insight. And Stannis, yeah, I actually do not like Stannis in-canon or otherwise. I just really wanted him dead, and dead pretty quick. That and Joffrey needed to become king... just to make everyone angry.

_**Review Response #14**_: To Anarra, thanks for the comment! I love Aemon too, his background story and his indirect connection to the story in-canon are just amazing I find. More Targaryen-Stark stuff to happen of course, just in time :)

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


	28. Chapter 27 - Tragedy of Honor

_Disclaimer_: I do NOT own Game of Thrones or its contents. All characters and notions of story belong the George Martin. This is an alternate storytelling and is not meant to infringe on copyright.

* * *

**Chapter 27: Tragedy of Honor**

"Elia Martell, your Graces!" One of the noble announcers spoke as he bowed to Cersei Lannister and to Joffrey Baratheon who now sat on the Iron Throne. He wore a gold and ruby crown with the signature Stag antlers adorning it. His vestments of red with plentiful gold matched the crown, sitting there in arguably the wrong colors. Of course, his mother was dressed much the same.

Cersei wore a gown of red and gold with tiny rubies, pearls and gold buttons decorating the bodice. A thick golden chain hugged her waist as small lion pendants hung from it. She too wore a crown if not a far smaller and less ornate one compared to the new king's. It was a slim circlet with a single large ruby on the front, very suitable for one who sat in their own self-given right next to the Iron Throne.

An invert to Cersei in every way, Elia Martell was dressed in a simple way though still beautifully. Though no longer addressed as the Dowager Queen in the open, she still took pride in self and the history she held with Westeros and the throne that had been stolen from her son. Denied the right to wear any of her crowns, she renounced all of her jewels and only wore only the colors of House Martell. Her gown was as plain as could be, of gold with red details that flowed softly with each of her steps. Many still bowed to her as she walked by towards the Iron Throne, much to the displeasure of the new king.

"Lady Martell." Joffrey said with a sting as he leaned forward, smirking ear to ear. He enjoyed tormenting Aegon's mother, though of course he could not harm her without the resent of Dorne. Not that Joffrey cared much for how Dorne felt, he only restrained himself barely at the advice of his mother since Elia Martell had done no explicit wrong as of yet. Joffrey was only waiting for Elia to say something, anything that in the slightest would brand her a traitor. And today he was going to force her hand if he could help it.

Elia stood before the Iron Throne and nodded her head, but said nothing. Which was a great improvement after she referred to Joffrey as 'Lord Lannister'. While not an implication of treason, that started an uproar and Joffrey was furious as was Cersei, and Elia was made to beg for forgiveness as all of her ladies' maids were dragged into the throne room and held at sword-point. Still Joffrey mocked her but she endured, perhaps she grew too comfortable being a regent in times of peace. Though it took little time for her to remember how the game was played.

"You sent for me?" The Dornish Queen stood there, glancing up at the new, young Stag with no expression. Her hands neatly folded in her lap as she stood as if there were no care in the world, though there wasn't a soul who didn't know she was weakened from a recent illness as always.

"I did." Joffrey grit his teeth as he watched her, not enjoying her reaction today. Sometimes Elia would at least frown or make a snippy remark, one time Joffrey managed to get her to leave abruptly. "Why is it that Lord Doran Martell ignores my summons?"

"I could not say." Elia answered matter-of-factly. "Have the other Lord Paramounts given response to your summonings?"

"That's not the point!" Joffrey barked at her, oh how he wanted to put her head on a spike. The widely beloved Queen Elia Martell, whose name was toasted each and every night by loyalists of King Aegon the Coward. Oh how he wanted to make an example of the closest threat to his reign, to his right as king since the abrupt and tragic death of Lord Stannis Baratheon. She was so near, he could have her slain with a breath, yet his mother kept reminding him just how important it was to have Elia Martell alive. Alive, she only needed to be alive.

"Then I am unsure of what you wish me to say." Elia stood unmoved and Joffrey scoffed at her.

"I heard your son is dead, slit open up his front by Dothraki savages and fed to their horses." The Stag King grinned as he watched Elia's face, but she remained firm and soon Joffrey's smile diminished. There were rumors that Elia Martell cried for days when she heard news that Aegon and Rhaenys were dead, that Aegon was burned alive or sold into slavery while his sister was raped by sailors and chopped up. Yet Joffrey never saw a tear from the woman, never heard a whimper.

"I've heard things too." She left it at that, not trying too hard to imply Joffrey's illegitimacy. Not that she had to, Joffrey was starting to turn red in the face again. Many spoke whispers of the odd circumstances surrounding Lord Stannis' sudden bed-ridden illness and then quick death. More were speaking however of Joffrey Baratheon being a bastard, though who had spread such information was unknown. This mysterious person had gained the absolute hatred of the new royals.

"You are speaking to a king." Cersei spoke up as she stared down at Elia. "You should bow to him and answer him properly."

"Unbent. Unbowed. Unbroken." Elia answered to the new queen.

"Hear Me Roar." Cersei replied back as she smirked. Speaking the Lannister words was more like a viper spitting venom, her father would be ashamed to see her use them so loosely. Even if provoked by another House's motto.

"I am sure you will one day make some sound, I very much doubt it would be a roar." Elia said, though hardly under her breath. Now it was Cersei who began to turn red in the face. The new Queen Mother was finding it hard to command the authority and respect that Elia Martell had, as many simply obeyed Cersei out of fear rather than loyalty.

"It seems you need to be taught some manners." Joffrey sat back lightly against the throne and pressed a finger to his lips. "I could have your tongue cut out, you know that?"

"You could do a great many of things, I am sure." Elia answered to his threat.

"Seize her." Joffrey nodded to his Kingsguard who moved quick, two of them each taking one of Elia's arms and pushing her onto her knees. "Do you think we could make your brother hear you scream, Lady Martell?"

"Unbent. Unbowed. Un-" Elia went quiet for a moment as one of the Kingsguard struck her, but she made no sound from the hit. "...Unbroken."

"We'll see about that." Joffrey bit his bottom lip as he glanced to his jailer that carried a pair of tongs and a knife, barely hot. It seemed today that King Joffrey would tempt fate and the wrath of Dorne, and had planned on doing so from the beginning. Oh how he wanted her to scream.

"Your Grace!" A voice shouted from the back. "She is a lady in her own right, you can't do this!"

"Who dares?" Cersei called out as she held her hand to the jailer. The crowd glanced around until a man in chain-mail with the blue and white Falcon crest on his chest. He approached briskly and bowed before the golden-haired.

"How dare you speak out against your king!" Joffrey snapped. "This is treason in its highest!"

"I meant no disrespect your Grace. It's only that... Elia Martell is a Lady of Dorne and can't be treated as a prisoner. Dorne has not spoken out against your Grace in the slightest!"

"You don't know that." Cersei answered to the Knight of the Vale. "Dorne could be planning an invasion into the rest of the kingdoms. It is fair that we hold Elia Martell prisoner, and that she should pay for her insolence."

"Let me take her place!" The Vale Knight begged, looking up at Joffrey. "Give me ten fold of her punishment but I beg your Grace to bring no harm to her."

"Ten fold you say?" Joffrey raised a brow, not able to help himself from grinning as he ran his tongue across his teeth. There was lust in his eyes, a lust for pain, for the screams, for the terror. To remove the tongue of a once-queen or to do the most horrible things to a servant of the Vale of Arryn. It certainly would send a message in either case. Yet Lord Arryn was not shy about his loyalties, and perhaps needed the message more than Lord Doran who was rumored to have plotted against Aegon.

"This is treason. You cannot go against the wishes of the king!" Heads turned to Maester Pycelle who sat on the sidelines. Elia's eyes moved to the old man as well, his betrayal came as little surprise since there had been talk that Pycelle was in fact a Lannister servant. Though she did not assume it be true, Elia longed for the day when the maester would receive his due when Aegon returned. As would all others.

"He's right." Cersei agreed as she looked to her son.

"Yes... you are a traitor." Joffrey grit his teeth a bit and then laughed slightly. "Very well. You may take the punishment for Elia Martell, but this is still treason... I command that Lord Jon Arryn of the Vale come forth to answer for crimes of his knight on this day! He will come and bend the knee or all the Knights of the Vale present in King's Landing will have their heads sent back to him! Send the ravens!"

"Lord Arryn? B-but your Grace!" The knight looked bewildered as the Kingsguard released Elia and grabbed him instead. Several other knights in the room tried to slip away quietly but the Gold Cloaks were already on the move to seize each and every one of those wearing the Arryn Falcon.

"Have the pokers hot and ready for him, I want all of King's Landing to hear his cries as he's cut open. The cry that would replace a Martell's." Joffrey looked to Elia who looked absolutely horrified as the knight forced onto his knees. This was a face he had been hoping to see.

* * *

The four ladies that tended to Elia followed after her as the Martell Queen rushed from the Great Hall in a fluster as the echoes of the knight begging for mercy rang in her ears. She had watched them break his fingers one at a time, smash his feet with a hammer, all in front of the entire court. Now Elia could barely fathom what they were doing to the poor boy, a young man who was too eager to be a hero, too loyal to save himself. The last image she had of him was his armor being taken off, so his bare chest could be Joffrey's canvas.

And Elia hated herself. She never sat upon the Iron Throne, but today she felt the sharp blades for the first time. A king should never sit comfortably, Aegon the Conqueror had uttered those words and they could not be more true for Elia more than ever. Years she had spent governing Westeros albeit with much being done by the Lord Hand Tywin Lannister, yet she could not stay to watch the knight who saved her. She could not give him that due, that small due. The years had made her soft, as they had made Tywin less hard, both too comfortable in their positions.

Tywin had only been dismissed, while Elia now had the burden of the Seven Kingdoms on her shoulders. When Stannis came to King's Landing, he had barely any resistance with taking the Iron Throne. Worse yet when news came that the High Septon affirmed Lord Stannis to be the next king, Elia felt her heart break. She thought the High Septon to be a good man, a pious and loyal servant to the gods and to Aegon. Though perhaps the gods favored her, for Stannis was dead within days before he could ever sit on the throne.

And now a beast sat where a Stag would have been. Elia was of no match for how vile and cruel Joffrey was, she could not scheme him away or rally support without endangering so many. Elia felt like a coward.

"My lady!" One of the maidens hurried to her mistress followed by the others as Elia barely made it to the stairway, dropping to the ground. The queen burst into tears as she heard the knight wail, biting down on her lip to control herself. Elia's lady held her close, the queen weeping helplessly, shaking like an animal before the butcher's knife.

"Your Grace!" The lady called out as Elia began to violently cough, looking at her hand, it was covered in blood.

"Fetch someone! Go! Go!" The lady-in-waiting called to the others who ran with all they had in them. "Gods be good..."

Elia's vision blurred and her world began to twirl around, but she never lost consciousness. She would not give in, she could not give the beast the satisfaction. She could not watch the brave knight, but she would strain and struggle to listen to each one of the young man's shouts. And she would silently beg for his forgiveness.

* * *

The cries from the knight had long stopped, and Elia laid abed now. Her shakes had passed and Pycelle had reported she was not in any danger so long as she rested. The maester's tone seemed different than it had, for years it had been a voice of appeasement yet now it was almost mocking. Too comfortable on the throne, too many years of peaceful regency. And now there was no telling how long she laid there, barely awake and hardly moving.

"Lyanna..." She whispered, so desiring to curse the woman who sparked a war. Who stole her husband and ultimately caused his downfall, left her young son with too large a responsibility. And left Elia a near-shattered woman who could barely hold herself, let alone the realm together.

"That is by far, the strangest thing I have ever heard." The voice was not one Elia was familiar with, though she was absolutely sure she had heard it before and often enough to know its owner struck a nerve or two. Glancing to the side very slowly, Elia could barely make out the figure there. His blond hair and short stature however gave him away.

"My Queen..." Her vision slowly focused, watching the small man kneel.

* * *

_**Author's Note**_: Finally the next chapter! Sorry for the delay, as I've said, been very occupied lately as some may have noticed. Though I've not abandoned this fic! I'll attempt to get the next chapter out quicker. Thank you for your continued support, I'll do my best not to let you down :) So Stannis is dead, the High Septon has been discreetly replaced with a puppet though who knows how long that will be kept under the rug. And Elia has found herself cornered, barely avoiding Joffrey's cruelty, though she may seem weak and full of despair, but she will have a chance to stand strong. Will she be so lucky next time though? Or the time after? What will Aegon do to Joffrey and Cersei when he returns? Will he return in time? Remember to review, unless of course you support Cersei and want her to stay where she is.

_**Review Response**_: To KnightOfHolyLight, thanks for the review! Glad you enjoyed the chapter! It maaay or maaay not have been Varys, but likely was considering the description. Tyrion likely wants to try and regain some ground, and where better to do that than in King's Landing? Though will he be able to play the game with Joffrey cheating at it, and will Tywin as well be returning to the capital? So much to happen, so far to go.

_**Review Response #2**_: To Lupinara, thanks for the review! The Starks of course will be called to the bend the knee as will everyone else. Joffrey's already gone to the trouble of having all the Paramount Houses summoned but none have answered yet (apparently not even Tywin) though that could simply be a lack of time to expect a response. Joffrey would want to undermine Aegon in every way, but the idea of marriage with the Starks is an idea linked to the friendship of Robert and Ned, so I think Sansa and Arya are safe for the moment. As you've seen, he's been targeting something else very important to Aegon, his mother.

_**Review Response #3**_: To ButcherPete1, thanks for the comments! Well he does smile in both book and in the show, if not briefly. The idea is in this AU is that he has had far less challenges facing him and his family and has grown cocky. He's a strong man to begin with, but so was Robert Baratheon and he became a fat drunkard. All a matter of perspective.

_**Review Response #4**_: To flo, thanks for the review! Glad you enjoyed it! Likely Tyrion is hoping to re-secure his place as Hand of the King, though that might be difficult against those now on the Iron Throne. Stannis would act very, very badly I would think, but then again... is Stannis even still alive? Aegon and Rhaenys have their marriage-insight in the chapters after the next, and I agree, though I don't expect them to have a Drogo/Dany scene when she gets some spunk with all the observers. Their reaction might be fun though!

_**Review Response #5**_: To TheBlackKing, thanks for the comments! Well to be fair, all of this story is theory mixed with a canon-structure. RLJ is as much a theory as is the origin of the Others, the princely prophecies, the magic of dragon-hatching, etc.

_**Review Response #6**_: To Akatsuki Leader13, thanks for the comments! I checked the early chapters, and it's not Aegon whose narrating, so I don't believe he's actually referring to Eddard as Ned, but I did see what you mean. Thanks for that!

_**Review Response #7**_: To chronos the cookie thief, thanks for the review! Just scum, minor characters who tagged along with Bronn. Varys above anyone else wants peace in the realm, mostly, so it makes sense to rescue the Hand of the King. All the Houses will be given some insight, next is the new Royal 'Baratheons'.

_**Review Response #8**_: To Misery Loves Sarah, thanks for the review! Happy to see your reviews again! :) Not sure Arya and Aegon will have anything for a little while, but perhaps!

_**Review Response #9**_: To A Fan, thanks for the comment! Glad you enjoyed it! Hopefully Tyrion knows what he's doing...

_**Review Response #10**_: To RavenclawPrincess90, thanks for the comment! Glad you like it, thank you :) Well you'll have to wait and see, the next chapter will give a big insight into Aegon/Rhaenys' marriage, and you'll be able to decide for yourself I think!

_**Review Response #11**_: To Guest, thanks for the comment!

_**Review Response #12**_: To Anarra, thanks for the review! Glad you liked it! I also enjoy Bronn a lot, especially once he's settled in as Tyrion's pseudo-sidekick.

_**Review Response #13**_: To lolcats, thanks for the review! I'm trying to steer away from Aegon/Arya chapters for the moment since there are other characters who need some spotlight, but they will be coming up! As for Drogo and the maegi, you'll just have to wait and see. Though remember, the situation is very different this time around :)

_**Review Response #14**_: To Patrick, thanks for your reviews! Whoops~~ as you might come across them, I do tend to make many small (sometimes rather large) mistakes, I appreciate them being pointed out, so thank you! That's a good point as to whether Tywin is willing to raise his banner for Joffrey in this AU or not, since he is a different man. So maybe he might sit out the war, but a chance for conquest and glory? I somehow don't see him passing the opportunity, despite what choice he makes when war breaks out.

_**Review Response #15**_: To Zexs, thanks for the comment! Yes, Melisandre has a hand in all things it seems, though has disappeared for the time being. Perhaps she is still up to something?

_**Review Response #16**_: To Sangemaru, thanks for the review! And thank you, I'm glad you think so :)

_**Review Response #17**_: To RideEmLikeACowboyJazzy, thanks for the... many, many reviews! I appreciate it! I'm glad you're so into the story! I believe I put everyone's ages in the prologue, I could be wrong though, I haven't read my own prologue in so long.. An Aegon/Tyrion fic would be... um, interesting I suppose though Tyrion I'm sure doesn't swing that way, Aegon may or may not for all I know. Though you are right, I should be shifting the spotlight around, it's just difficult with so many mini-storylines going on to weave into one big plot :) I'll keep trying though! Again, thank you!

_**Review Response #18**_: To jrrocks1, thanks for the review! Though please refrain from any thereom that could be spoiler ;) Though yes, Lyanna did die at the Tower of Joy, so many of those events did happen and all the war consequences are the same. The RLJ situation may happen, you'll have to read and see!

_**Review Response #17**_: To Midnight Rising, thanks for the comment! I shall do my best to see this to the end :)

_**Please Note**_: If there is a mistake somehow in this alternate GoT universe, please try to ignore it as I can't possibly get every single detail correct since I'm not brilliant Mr. Martin. If it is something major such as calling Hoster Tully the Lord of the Vale instead of Jon Arryn, please message me so I may correct it. And PLEASE, do not review with spoilers, many have not finished the books and/or TV series. Thank you! Please do review, and feel free to offer suggestions for writing or plot.


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